Clashing with Legends
by routavaurio
Summary: After a chance encounter with a strange boy, S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers catch wind of a mysterious group called the Guardians. They might be a new threat, or they might be hidden allies, older than any of them had imagined. And the longer it takes to decide what to do about them, the worse everything gets...
1. Puzzle

**I don't own the Avengers or Rise of the Guardians. This story takes place after the events of both films and they are referenced so if you haven't seen them (and are still reading this) you might be confused.**

* * *

**1. Puzzle**

Tony Stark hummed to himself in approval as he finished making the latest fixes to his tower's security systems. The Stark Tower was still under heavy renovations after the whole mess with the alien invaders and a mad-with-power Norse god that had taken out chunks of Tony's sweet home. Now it had mostly been patched up, but Tony had figured it was only necessary to boost his security while he was at it. Now he was pretty damn sure no one could get in without JARVIS noticing it. If there was something that somehow slipped past JARVIS, it was because it didn't exist. Now that _that _was taken care of, Tony could focus on other things, like maybe fashioning living floors for all of the Avengers, who seemed to now really form a team just like Fury had wished. Well, at least as much of a team as a group of very different people who were now in very different sides of the planet – and in some cases, not exactly even on the planet – could be.

While the Stark Tower was being fixed, the rest of Manhattan was also under repairs. By now, most of the buildings and streets were at least usable. The window retailers and manufacturers were much richer than before and people in the central buildings could go back to work. What was harder to fix was the people's peace of mind. Facing an alien invasion and almost being nuked usually had a rather harrowing effect on people. These things tended to stay in memory for a long time, even now after all the funerals were over.

Tony turned his attention from JARVIS to his Iron Man armour. He had needed to rebuild the Mark VII suit almost entirely after chucking the nuclear missile to the Chitauri mothership. He had taken care to make some adjustments to the suit's durability, in case he needed to hang out in the vacuum of space more often now that he had discovered the joys of true altruism. His shiny, repaired suit was now standing in front of him, red and golden and begging to be tested one more time. Tony wasn't going to say no to that. He'd spent at least two days cooped up in his penthouse, making his new adjustments for JARVIS.

"JARVIS," Tony said, "I'm going out. I'm taking the suit."

"Very well, sir."

It was a rather nice summer evening outside, if one cared about such things. Tony flew a few rounds over the city centre and noted with satisfaction that the hours he had spent adjusting the suit after the last test flight had paid off; his movement felt much more fluid than before. He sped over Manhattan and plunged towards the water when he got to the bay. He stopped just above the surface and flew higher again, breaking through the aerial currents with ease. Good, everything was working fine. It had been an exceptionally good day for Tony. He would have been more happy about that if he hadn't been so sure that a nice day like that could only be followed by an exceptionally bad one.

He spent some more time in the air, staying above the Atlantic and only heading back towards his tower once it was getting late and New York was only a bunch of blinking lights in the darkness. Tony was halfway back and already planning what type of drink he would have to celebrate such a good testing day when something sent him off course and almost to the wall of a skyscraper. He quickly righted himself and looked around.

"JARVIS? Scan the area."

A few screens appeared into Tony's field of vision, all depicting the area through different filters. To be fair, it didn't do much seeing how even the airspace of Manhattan was always rather crowded and full of all sorts of signals. Tony flew upwards, scanning the sky for anything that might have been hostile. What had hit him hadn't been anything solid. It was more like a shockwave of energy, probably residue from some sort of explosion. Great, wasn't that exactly what the world needed? More explosions.

Tony finally stopped when he was hovering just above his tower. And that was when it happened again. This time it was farther away, and it only swayed him a little. But now he saw it, and he realized he had missed it previously because while it indeed was some sort of energy blast, it was as dark as the night sky and camouflaged into it save for a few flashes of gold among it. Tony frowned at the phenomenon and forgot all about his drink. He directed most of the power in the suit to propel him towards the explosion as fast as possible.

He reached the scene of the dark light quickly, but apparently not quickly enough. Whatever had caused it was nowhere to be seen. The night was silent and there wasn't even any debris from whatever it was that had blown up. If it indeed was something that had blown up.

Tony sighed.  
"Well, at least it didn't happen any closer to the city than this."

He still commanded JARVIS to scan the area once more through some filters. All he could detect was some residue energy that he couldn't identify at the moment. He would have wanted to look into it even more, but he didn't exactly have any means of bagging something intangible and unknown for further studies. At least not at the moment.

"Sir," JARVIS derailed his train of thought, "a foreign object is falling towards the ground. Seems to be metallic."

"What? Where?"

JARVIS gave him video feed and readings and Tony was on his way. The object was small and it was falling fast. Damn. Tony had kind of hoped he wouldn't have to stop any more explosives for a while. He sped up and dodged a flagpole on the tip of a building. The falling object clinked softly as it hit the roof of the skyscraper and bounced back up. Tony caught it before it could continue its descent and shot back up into the sky, clutching the object firmly in his hand. Only when he was high enough so that the city was safe did he open his metal-covered hand.

"What the-?"

The object was shiny and cylindrical. It looked harmless enough, with its filigree decorations – which for the record would have been an unbelievable waste of money if the thing had been meant to blow up – and a portrait of a child at the base. But of course, extremely dangerous things could very easily be disguised to look innocent. Tony frowned at the cylinder and dared to shake it just a little. It rattled softly. There was something inside, but Tony didn't see how it could have been opened without damaging it. A puzzle box.

"I really hope this just fell out of a plane or something," Tony said out loud, "Because otherwise this is just weird."

He really wasn't in the mood for facing a mysterious attacker with a very gimmicky weapon. At least not before a good night's sleep. Oh, yes, and the drink he had wanted.

"JARVIS, what do you think?" he asked.

"It seems to be a container, sir," JARVIS said rather unhelpfully, "It doesn't seem to have any electronic functions or anything explosive in it."

What actually was inside the box was harder to say. If Tony wanted to know, he would have to take it to the lab. And boy did he want to know. He sped back into his tower, disturbing a few lonely, brightly coloured feathers that were gently floating towards the nightly streets.

* * *

It was on the news the very next morning. Someone had captured poor-quality, grainy footage of the strange phenomenon on the sky. That someone's YouTube -channel had become a hit in about five hours. Tony watched it together with Pepper, who had managed to find time for a quiet moment in the morning even with the exceptionally full schedule she had for the week.

"_Experts are looking into this strange phenomenon, but so far there is no definitive answer to what it was caused by."_

"So you said you were there?" Pepper asked from where she sat curled up at the corner of a sofa, her long legs draped over the armrest.

Tony nodded and turned the puzzle box in his hands for the nth time that morning. He had examined it late into the night, and it interested him more with every detail he figured out about it. Just because it didn't make any sense to him. And because it was a bit embarrassing that he, Tony Stark, a genius, hadn't been able to open a puzzle box even after hours of trying.

"_We are advising people to not panic, as there is no indication that whatever happened has caused any danger."_

"It almost knocked me to a building," Tony said absently, "I don't know what it was. Some sort of energy. I couldn't find anything it could have come from."

Pepper swept a loose strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear.  
"So what do you _think _it was?"

Tony shrugged.  
"I'm going to keep my options open. A lot of weirdness has been happening lately."  
He shook the puzzle box.  
"I can be pretty sure it's not the Chitauri, at least."

"Well, that's comforting."

"Do you know what's inside this thing?" Tony asked suddenly, holding the decorated cylinder up for Pepper to see.

Pepper frowned.  
"No. What?"

"Teeth."

"Not yours," Pepper said matter-of-factly.

"Nope. It fell from the sky. I can't open it yet, but I know there's teeth inside it."

"Well, that's... weird."

"I know," Tony tapped the surface of the box with his finger, "I don't have any meetings today, do I?"

"You are going to spend your day with a box of teeth?" Pepper asked with her brows raised.

Tony smirked at her.  
"Well, the day, yes. But as for the night... if you're not too busy?"

Pepper laughed and flashed a smile of her own.

In the background the TV kept going, and the news changed to weather reports.

"_The night has been unusually cold, and it has left some of the roads slippery with frost. People at the centre of Manhattan are advised to move with some caution."_

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, writer's block is gone, so I am now taking a journey. A journey waaaaaaaaay out of my comfort zone. There are so many reasons why this fic can (and probably will) be terrible, and yet I'm trying it. Take cover and save yourselves, or alternatively, help me on this journey by giving me some feedback!**

**Okay, first of all: Crossover. I've never written one. Second: Avengers. I've seen it and I liked it almost as much as I can like a superhero film. I haven't read any Avengers comics nor have I even seen all of the other films that lead up to the Avengers. I know how they sort of go, but... yeah, I suck. Third: well, those first two were already big ones, but um, like those people who have read my other fics know, English isn't my first language so I might mess some things up. I do my best to correct my errors and I do proofread my chapters but some things might slip past me. And fourth: this will be a longer story. Something I don't feel comfortable doing while writing fanfiction. I think I enjoy torturing myself just a little.**

**So if there's something happening that you think doesn't make any sense considering the film!Avengers -universe or RotG -universe and you lose your sleep over it, then tell me! I might try to make sense out of it all. And if a character is being OOC, tell me that too and please tell me how he/she/it is being OOC. However, I will be taking some liberties but hopefully not too much. All other feedback/critique/commenting is of course very much loved too!**

**Also, don't worry. I am well aware of how badly I fail at romance, so that will be kept to a minimum.**


	2. Creeping Winter

**2. Creeping Winter**

"Did you find them all?"

Toothiana was nervously fluttering around in her palace, or at least as much as her damaged wing allowed her to. The palace was a mess. Well, it had seen worse times, of course. What Pitch had done this time was nothing compared to his previous attack on Punjam Hy Loo, when he had captured all of Toothiana's fairies and stolen _all _of the children's memories. This time Pitch's army of Nightmares had been much smaller, and he had merely struck fast and grabbed an armful of memory boxes and run. It had been just to provoke them, Toothiana knew. But why? Pitch was still weak from his defeat not too long ago. Why waste energy on such a petty attack?

Well, of course taking any memories was a terrible offence, and it had taken the Guardians an entire night to chase Pitch down and beat him somewhere over New York. And in the scuffle the memory boxes had fallen, scattered in a terrible moment when time slowed down and Toothiana had been afraid the boxes would just shatter and be lost forever. Of course they hadn't. She had known that, but a moment of panic didn't care about reason. And in that moment of panic, Pitch had disappeared as well.

Her mini-fairies gathered around her. They had all worked relentlessly to recover all the boxes, and Toothiana felt both pride and regret when she saw how hard the fairies had worked and how worn out some of the fairies were. She wished she could have been there with them, but the other Guardians had insisted she should stay back and take care of her wing that had taken quite a nasty hit from a Nightmare. So she had stayed behind in her palace to lead the operation of recovering the memories. Now all of her fairies had returned, and she congratulated them and hurried to the hall where the memories were stored.

Every child had their own box, and every box had its place. And every tooth had a place in the box. Now Toothiana flew along the corridor, sometimes wincing in pain and walking when her wing was aggravated too much. She counted the boxes there, knowing which places should be empty and which shouldn't. Her check was over much sooner than it should have been possible, considering there were billions of boxes in her possession. Her worry hastened her onwards, and when she was done she returned to one of the central rooms of the palace. Her mind wasn't at ease.

"So, did they find them all?"

It was asked in a booming voice with a Russian accent. Toothiana turned her birdlike head towards the large, bearded man who was sitting in the corner of the room. She shook her head and North looked worried under his white beard.

"One is missing," Toothiana said quietly, "But at least it's only one. They did a great job."

A small, round, golden man nodded his head vigorously. Toothiana's fairies chirped their thanks.

"They have to get back to teeth-collecting now, though," Toothiana continued, "Their sisters need their help. I'll dispatch one of them to fetch the last box and go with her."

"And what about Pitch?" asked a tall, grey bunny, "He's still out there."

"We will find him," North assured the others, "Sandy promised to look for him, no?"

Sandy nodded his head again, his wild golden crown of hair bouncing up and down.

"And we'll do our part, too," said Bunnymund, and his long ears twitched with what Toothiana assumed was itch to get into action.

One of Toothiana's fairies chirped near Toothiana's face. Toothiana glanced at her and smiled.

"You want to volunteer? That's great! I'll come with you, then."

"Hey, I can go with her, if that's okay?" a young voice spoke with an audible smile.

Toothiana looked at Jack Frost, and gratitude warmed her heart.

"You'd do that, Jack? I mean, I can go there myself, but..."

Jack smiled, and seeing his sparkly white teeth warmed Toothiana's heart even further.

"Hey, you need to rest your wing. I'll take care of it."

The mini-fairy buzzed over to Jack and nuzzled his cheek. Jack let out a laugh.

"Baby Tooth! That tickles!"

"You just remember to be careful, Jack," North reminded the boy.

Jack smirked.  
"I'm always careful."

Bunnymund rolled his eyes and Toothiana had to agree with that gesture. But even though the boy was anything but careful, he could definitely take care of himself. That much was certain.

* * *

True to his word, Tony spent the day with the tooth box. There wasn't much new he could learn about it, except that the teeth inside were baby teeth and apparently a perfect set. Either some family's kid was really organized when it came to fallen out pieces of bone or somewhere there was a creep with a fascination for collecting kids' teeth. And a fondness for very good and durable puzzle boxes. Tony had tried to very scientifically break the box after fruitlessly trying to open it. The box wasn't even showing cracks after being smacked with a hammer and blasted with a laser cutter. It was all very perplexing, and Tony could only stop thinking about it during the night, which he – also true to his word – spent with Pepper. It was a very nice night, and Tony was a bit disappointed when Pepper had to leave the next day to take care of some business in Colorado. Talking to Pepper always made so many things clearer. Well, she would be gone only for a few days, at least. A long few days that Tony would be spending alone with the puzzle box with teeth in it that was putting up a stubborn fight.

After a frustrating morning Tony decided to declare a truce with the box and turned back to planning renovations for his tower. The floors for each of the Avengers would really be a nice touch. Then he could save money by not having to order more huge consonants to replace the ones fallen off from his _STARK_-logo at the roof of his tower. And use that saved money for the new personal Avenger-floors which would be way more expensive than a few new letter-shaped lights.

The summer weather had indeed changed during the night, and it seemed to stay cooler than what was normal for July in New York. Tony set the heating in the tower to comfortable levels and didn't bother throwing a jacket over his T-shirt even when he briefly wandered outside, maybe out of some bored stubbornness that made him rebel against the weather. The chilly wind bit his face and ruffled his dark hair almost mockingly.

It was afternoon when he was contacted by S.H.I.E.L.D. He wasn't surprised. In fact, he had been waiting for it. The law-enforcement unit that had started the whole Avengers-initiative was nowadays extra paranoid. Well, everyone was extra paranoid, to be fair. Tony opened up a screen for the stern, dark-skinned face of Nick Fury, who didn't waste time for greetings.

"You were near the explosion, Stark," Fury said bluntly as if the whole world knew about it, "What do you know about it?"

"What makes you think I was there?" Tony asked, "Well, I was, actually, but I have no idea what it was."

"Neither do we," Fury said, sounding surprisingly enough almost honest, "And if it isn't repeated, there's not much hope of knowing. But if it does happen again..."

"It means it's probably something we should worry about," Tony finished, "I'm looking into it."

"We know you are. And I want you to report anything you find out about it."

Tony thought about the puzzle box that was now on a table in his living room. At the moment it didn't feel very important. At least not like anything S.H.I.E.L.D. should know about.

"It was energy," he said when Fury seemed to be expecting some sort of insight from him, "Different from anything I've seen before... maybe. I didn't get a good enough look at it."

Yep. He might inform Fury about the tooth box when he got it open.

Fury asked him a few more questions and informed him that they didn't know more about the lights either and that more S.H.I.E.L.D. -agents would be dispatched into Manhattan. It was of course less than what Fury really knew, but Tony didn't push it. It wouldn't be of any use. He impatiently switched off the screen when Fury let him and slumped to the nearest chair. Outside, the temperature had dropped a few degrees, and the highest windows of Manhattan were starting to get foggy. A lonely bird fluttered across the sky.

* * *

Something woke Tony up with a start. He was in full awareness very quickly, and then he had the mind to wonder at what point he had fallen asleep to begin with. He had worked in his lab until it got dark, and then... well, he was still in the lab. He blinked in the brightly lit room and sensed something fishy about it all. He definitely hadn't been tired enough to fall asleep in the middle of some very interesting design-work. Had he been knocked out somehow? It didn't feel like it, but something was definitely wrong.

The windows of the Stark Tower were fogged up, with delicate frost swirls creeping up the windowpanes. The temperature was closer to wintry conditions than to a cool summer night. Tony looked at the screens displaying a security report and realized it was the quiet but effective alarm that had woken him up. At least his new system seemed to be working even in action and not just during test-runs. Tony studied the screens for a moment, an intense frown creasing his forehead. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary on camera. But there had to be _something _there. Otherwise he wouldn't have been alerted. So what was...?

He looked at the other screens displaying heat signatures and detecting different types of energy. Some of those functions were what he had just updated to the system a couple of days ago, and now they seemed to be paying off already. Whoever was in the building had disguised themselves well from regular cameras and had somehow gotten inside through all the security measures in the tower, but even they couldn't fool all of his detectors. Tony felt like he had to give himself a pat in the back for that system. He quickly enlarged the screens that actually showed something. The intruder was in his private living quarters, in his living room to be exact. It was a cold blob of energy on the screen, moving slowly towards a table in the corner. The same table where Tony had left the puzzle box with teeth in it.

Tony shook his head in irritation. It was time to let the intruder know that one didn't just walk into Tony Stark's home and steal from him. He quickly strapped on the bracelets that he could easily signal the Iron Man suit with. It was more of a precaution; he doubted he would need the suit, considering there were about a dozen ways he could subdue the intruder with just voice commands that controlled his security system. He commanded the place to be locked down right away, something he had already thought done. But apparently there had still been some route open. He walked silently into his living room and checked the surroundings. The windows were covered in frost, frost that kept growing even as Tony watched. Well, that was odd, especially now in July. In fact, the whole room was getting steadily chillier.

Then Tony's eyes finally fell on the intruder. And whatever he had been expecting, this was definitely not it.

* * *

**Author's Note: I might be stretching RotG's belief-rules a bit in future chapters but hopefully in a sort of sense-making way. The story might have had a bit of a slow start, but the thing is: I like build-up so now you have to suffer that too.**

**And also: wow, you guys are so supportive! That makes me so happy! Just keep those lovely reviews coming! Unless of course you don't want to, that's okay too.**


	3. Security Breach

**3. Security Breach**

The intruder was a boy. A teenager. And judging by the way he dressed in a worn-out blue hoodie and ragged trousers and no shoes, homeless as well. The boy had pulled his hood up, but Tony could still see the glint of icy blue eyes in the dim light. The boy's pale hand clutched a long, crooked staff that was probably meant to be used as a weapon, seeing how the kid definitely didn't need it for support. Tony blinked. Great. His tower's state-of-the-art security had been breached by an underage hobo. Something definitely wasn't right here.

The boy had by now walked across the room, and his free hand was already reaching for the tooth box. Now, that wouldn't do.

"Lights," Tony said clearly.

The room was lit up brightly, and the boy jumped backwards in surprise, blinking rapidly and pointing his stick at Tony. The boy's spindly legs bent in preparation to bolt, but Tony raised his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture.

"Hi," he said to the boy, "Nice night, isn't it? Now would you mind telling me what the hell you think you're doing here?"

The boy's eyes were wide with shock, and in the light Tony could see that the kid looked deathly pale. If the kid hadn't just suddenly appeared into his penthouse without any warnings and somehow fooled most of his cameras, Tony could have thought of him just a poor soul searching for warmth indoors.

"You..." the boy finally spoke, in a voice that was a bit shaky from what Tony assumed was still shock, "You can _see _me?"

Okay. Weird. Tony crossed his arms.  
"Sure I can. You fooled most of my cameras, but you're there, and I have two functioning eyeballs."

The boy looked around as if searching for the cameras and then some strange realization dawned on his pale face.  
"Oh, you believe what you see with those machines. That explains it, I guess."

Then, in just a few seconds, all the traces of shock were wiped out from the kid's demeanour and he swung the stick over his shoulders.  
"Well, as nice as this is, talking to an adult and everything, I'm just here to get something back."

Tony glanced at the box the exact same time the kid did.  
"That box is yours?" he asked calmly.

"Nah," the boy said, "It's my friend's. It was stolen and she wants it back."

Tony took a few strategic steps to the side, closer to the table with the box. The boy's glacial eyes followed him warily, with vigilance that Tony had seen in the eyes of many agents and soldiers.

"You know, I'd gladly believe you, kid," Tony said and casually pretended to lean to a bar stool, all the while keeping his weight balanced so that he could spring to action at any time, "But you've kind of made yourself suspicious by sneaking into my tower. Do you know who the last intruder in my house was?"

The boy just shrugged his shoulders.  
"I'll just take the box and get out. I promise."

"Uh, no, you won't," Tony said, "First I want some answers."

The boy was silent, still staring at Tony. It was unnerving, really. There was something off about the kid. Hell, there were a _lot_ of things off about the kid. Especially the too-bright eyes. If Tony hadn't known Loki was in custody he would have suspected the kid to be under Loki's mind-control. But if Loki had somehow got free this quickly, the Asgardian security must have been laughable. And the kid didn't really seem mind-controlled. He was far too relaxed, too natural for that.

"What is that box?" Tony asked when the kid didn't seem to want to talk any more.

The boy's gaze wandered towards the box again. Tony's entrance had scared the kid away from the table, but he was still far too close to it for Tony's liking. Tony moved a step closer.

"It's just for memories," the kid said quietly, "Nothing you need to care about."

"I found that outside after that explosion," Tony said in a voice that was so friendly it was dangerous, "You know, the weird light thing. It was all over YouTube and everything."

The boy shrugged again. This was getting annoying.

Tony took another step and lunged for the box.

He moved a split-second before the kid did, but, as Tony learned when he crashed against the now empty table, this advantage wasn't enough. The kid jumped onto the table, grabbed the box and jumped off just before Tony's arm impacted the wooden corner. Tony stumbled, but managed to stay standing, lashing out almost blindly and catching a handful of hood. A very cold hood. He yanked the kid back, the kid gasping in surprise and falling into a heap of gangly limbs. The hood fell off the kid's head exposing messy, bleached hair. The tooth box slipped from the kid's fingers and rolled into a corner. The kid quickly tore himself free of Tony's hold and backed away, his stick raised defensively in front of him.

"Hey! Not nice!" the kid snapped accusingly.

There was a strange rattle somewhere in the corner where the box was. Tony spun around and saw the box suddenly rising into the air, wobbling in place for a while before steadying itself.

"Hey!" Tony shouted and decided it was time to actually start using the security system he had so proudly congratulated in his mind a few moments ago.

He took a few steps towards the box. He opened his mouth to voice his commands to JARVIS, but just then the kid's body collided with him, knocking them both over. Tony ended up on his back, and the kid's bare feet were planted firmly on his stomach. The dead wood of the kid's staff pressed threateningly against Tony's chest, right where his arc reactor was located.

"Don't touch her!" the boy growled, his voice suddenly colder than liquid nitrogen.

Her? Had Tony missed someone? Tony squinted at the floating box. To be fair, the fact that there was something holding it in the air would make more sense than it just floating on its own. And now that he looked closer at it, there indeed was a small speck of fluttering rainbow holding the box. A hummingbird?

The hummingbird fluttered over to the boy. It was holding the box firmly in its... hands? Okay, so it wasn't a bird after all. The boy nodded to the tiny bird-woman and fished out a gleaming snowglobe from his pocket. Tony decided he didn't even try to make sense of what was going on at the moment. The kid had knocked the wind out of him, and the kid's feet were freezing and hindering Tony's efforts to catch his breath. That was something a bit more real that he could focus on.

"Ready?" the kid asked the bird-woman. It nodded and chattered in a shrill voice. The boy turned back to Tony, his too-bright eyes apologetic, "Hey, sorry about this."

"What-?"

The kid's stick impacted with Tony's skull, and for a second Tony saw stars. There was a strange, warped sound somewhere to his left, and a flash of light chased the stars away. The kid's barely existent weight left Tony, and Tony rolled to his feet even as his vision was recovering. He could barely catch a glimpse of a wormhole in his living room before it closed, leaving him alone.

Tony spared another look around the room. The table the box had been on had toppled over. Tony realized his T-shirt was coated in a fine layer of frost. His head was still hurting, solid proof that he was very much awake and hadn't just got really drunk and hallucinated the whole thing.

"JARVIS?" Tony called, surprisingly calm despite the situation.

"Yes, sir?"

"What the _hell _just happened?"

* * *

"Ya did _what_?" Bunnymund gasped.

"Bunny, he just told us what he did," North said helpfully, "I think it was job well done."

"He hit a bloke in the face!"

"Head," Jack corrected, feeling it was necessary to be specific, "The side of his head. I even saw him getting up before I left. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't have him following me! And freezing a guy isn't as safe as the cartoons make it look!"

"Ya mean you have tried that?" Bunny asked.

"No!" Jack said defensively, realizing too late he had said it too quickly, "Look, I got the box back. That Stark-guy will have a headache for a while but otherwise, no harm done."

"Stark?" Tooth repeated, "Anthony Stark is the man who saw you?"

"Yeah, that really rich guy who likes to fly around in a metal suit. The same guy who bumped into Sandy the other night."

"Bumped into" might be a bit inaccurate, seeing how the metal man had flown right through Sandy, almost causing the poor dream weaver to fall off his dreamsand cloud in shock. The others looked at each other with worry. Jack had a sinking feeling he had messed something up. He was regrettably good at that.

"Guys?" he asked carefully.

North was quick to lay a large hand on his shoulder.  
"No need for worries yet," he said reassuringly, "But men like Stark seeing us as threat is never good."

Sandy made a few sand-images of sleeping people and then waved his hands in a manner that seemed to wipe away all the bad memories.

"Sandy is right," Tooth said, "Most adults who somehow manage to see us usually dismiss us as dreams or just forget about us very quickly."

"But for a while, you should be extra careful," North added, "Is always good to be alert."

Jack nodded. To be fair, being seen by an adult was a very exciting concept for him. It was deemed very rare even among the most popular spirits, and now Jack, who had spent centuries being invisible to everyone, had pulled it off, even if it was mostly just because Mr. Stark trusted his electronic eyes so much. He would have gladly visited Mr. Stark again, if just to mess with him a little. But the others were right: Stark was a powerful man in more than one way. It was probably best if he didn't play with fire.

He hoped Mr. Stark wouldn't decide to bring the fire to him either. It could get very messy very fast.

* * *

Nick Fury watched the reports pile up. After the strange energy phenomenon in the sky above Manhattan, S.H.I.E.L.D. had been extra meticulous in surveying the area. There was definitely no need for anything like the Chitauri so soon. All alien forms of energy needed to be investigated, so S.H.I.E.L.D.'s field agents had been equipped with some cutting-edge scanners for catching sight of the energy signals before they could turn into something more than just fireworks. To be fair, these energies weren't completely alien. Fury had seen hints of them before in his work. And it made him determined to make sure it would be S.H.I.E.L.D. that solved this before the Pentagon would decide to take too much interest in it. In light of that, they were quickly running out of time.

"Look at that," said agent Hill, pointing her slim finger at one of the screens, "One of our men got some interesting shots near Stark's tower."

Fury looked. Indeed, it seemed the strange cold wave that had swept over New York after that night had a source. And that source had stayed for a long while in close proximity of the Stark Tower just a few hours ago. It had disappeared all of a sudden, but it had been there. It could have been a coincidence, but one didn't believe in such things in Fury's line of work. It was time to contact Stark again.

* * *

**Author's Note: So last time I sort of debated whether to put this and Chapter 2 together so I decided not to and instead promised myself to update this really fast. After this I might slow down with the updates a bit because I need to do some maybe heavy-handed editing for the chapters following this one. Like I said: I probably stretched the belief-rules a bit, seeing how it was enough for Tony to believe there was ****_someone _****in his room to see Jack, and the same with Baby Tooth - who was probably in Jack's pocket at the time Tony checked the cameras or was simply so small Tony didn't pay attention to her... Hopefully that's not too distracting.**

**Everyone's still being so awesome! Thank you all so much! And for SongOfTheBirds: I gladly accept your hug and hug you back, feeling very much loved!**

**The idea of Tony flying through one of the Guardians was thanks to Kagirinai-Eternal. Thanks again!**

**The last intruder in Stark Tower before Jack was of course Loki in the film.**

**Oh, and Tony didn't do all that well in this chapter, but hey, the guy was just woken up and had a weird sub-zero homeless kid and a hummingbird-woman in his room so give him a break. And I have a feeling Tony will have a rematch with Jack in the future... *evil laugh***


	4. Of Invisible Threats

**4. Of Invisible Threats**

It took a few hours with the heating turned up to get the living room back to normal. Not that it required any active involvement from Tony, but it was still a nuisance. Tony spent that time in the lab, because there was no way he could go back to sleep now, even though he had quickly diagnosed that the hit to his head hadn't caused a concussion. He had just been robbed by a homeless kid and a tiny hummingbird-woman, who had apparently broken in by using a portable wormhole disguised as a cheap souvenir. And out of all the expensive and dangerous things they could have taken, it was the box of teeth they had wanted. If Tony had gone to the police with this information, they would have laughed him out all the way to the nearest mental facility. Not that Tony would have just gone to the police in the first place. The whole concept of it would have just been embarrassing.

No. Tony would solve this by himself. He spent his early morning studying what little energy signals JARVIS had managed to detect and analyse. Interestingly enough, it was the kid who seemed to be the source of the unnatural coldness in the room. So that meant Tony had been robbed by a homeless kid with superpowers. And some mean reflexes. Tony wiped a hand across his face and sighed. This was getting a bit unsettling. And of course this was when Fury called again.

"What happened there last night, Stark?" Fury asked in a calm voice as soon as his face appeared on one of Tony's screens.

Tony smirked.  
"Hey, nice to see you too, Fury."

"I told you to report anything you find out about the energies," Fury said. His tone was still even and if one happened to be an idiot one might have mistaken Fury to be in a friendly mood. Tony wasn't an idiot.

"I don't have much to say about that," he said.

"What do you know about the cold spots all around your tower?" Fury asked again, not giving Tony a break.

"You're spying on my tower?" Tony asked, "I thought we were working together."

"Exactly," Fury said, "What happened there?"

"Something a bit weird," Tony said slowly, pressing his palms together thoughtfully, "The cold spots were caused by a kid who broke into my tower last night."

There was a very audible silence in the lab. Fury's one-eyed gaze was boring into Tony's forehead.  
"A kid?" Fury repeated, "Someone got into your tower? What did they steal?"

"Nothing important... I think," Tony said, "I found a box after that explosion and took it here. The kid took it and escaped through a wormhole."

Fury crossed his black-clad arms.  
"And when were you going to inform us about this?"

Tony shrugged his shoulders.  
"Soon? First I had to make sure the tower was secure."

Fury was still trying to drill holes into Tony with his eye.  
"I need to know everything you can tell about this 'kid'," he said.

Tony obliged, and Fury's forehead creased even further with every detail he gave. When Tony was done, Fury turned aside to speak to someone Tony correctly assumed was agent Hill.

"Get Barton here and see if Romanoff is available," Fury commanded, "And call Rogers as well. He should still be in the area."

He turned back to Tony, and Tony raised his brows questioningly.  
"So now it's Avengers-bad of a situation? What do _you_ know about this kid?"

Fury didn't give him a straight answer. Not that Tony had been expecting one. Fury simply called him for a meeting and hung up.

* * *

The meeting was held in a small, hidden S.H.I.E.L.D. operation centre not too far away from New York. Fury clasped his hands together behind his back and looked at the people in front of him. Barton had been the first to arrive, due to him practically being in the building. Rogers had been next, and he was now sitting in a corner looking a bit out of place in his Fifties' clothing. Not as out of place as Stark, however, who was wearing a Hard Rock Café T-shirt and who apparently hadn't slept at all last night. Well, if what Stark had told was true, he hadn't really. And it most likely was true. Stark would definitely not fabricate a lie that would make him look incompetent. Never.

"Natasha couldn't make it?" Barton asked almost as soon as everyone was present.

"She got held up in South East Asia," Fury said, adjusting a few screens in preparation for the meeting, "If things get serious, we'll get her here."

Barton nodded.  
"So what do we got there?" he pointed to the screen, "Something new about the energies?"

"Yes," Fury said, "We got some more information on that. And Stark says he knows more about what's causing them. Stark?"

"Yeah," Stark said, "This 'energy' we got here is a lot like very basic background radiation we're exposed to every day. Almost, but not quite. Whatever caused it is very good at concealment. Especially if it's connected to the cold spots."

"What cold spots?" Rogers asked.

"Haven't you noticed?" Stark asked back, "Manhattan's weather is unusually chilly for this time of the year. Again, nothing too weird. Weather changes. But the thing is that I actually caught the source of this on camera last night."

Fury opened up the file Stark had sent him after some stern looks. It displayed a bluish blob, vaguely human-shaped, in Stark's living quarters.

"That thing," Stark pointed to the blob, "got into my tower. Invisible to cameras, looked like a kid to the naked eye. Seemed mildly hostile, stole a box of teeth and warped away before I could ask questions."

There was a thoughtful silence. Finally Rogers asked what was probably the first question that had come to everyone's minds:  
"A box of teeth?"

Tony rolled his eyes.  
"Not mine, Cap-cicle. I found it after the explosion."

"That's... weird," Barton mused.

"Somehow everyone seems to think that," Stark deadpanned.

"Focus!" Fury commanded, "What happened is still a mystery, but one thing we do know for sure: we are dealing with an elusive, most likely dangerous being."

"A kid," Stark corrected, "What do you want us to do? Catch him and ask him questions?"

Fury nodded gravely.  
"That's exactly what I want you to do."

There was a thoughtful silence, which Stark broke in a light tone:  
"Oh, alright, then."

"You said we can't catch him even on camera," Barton pointed out, "And if this thing has mastered wormholes or whatever Tony said, he could be anywhere. Where do we start looking?"

That was an excellent question. One Fury didn't have a clear answer for. Not yet at least. But when it came to potential threats, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't give up so easily.

"We know he is out there," Fury said firmly, "And S.H.I.E.L.D. has found _very_ elusive targets before."

Stark leaned back in his chair, looking again like his usual, smug self.  
"I don't think finding this kid is as difficult as you might think, if he's still on the planet. We'll just follow the frost."

* * *

Despite what Tony had said, it took almost a month before S.H.I.E.L.D. got any proper clues on the mysterious kid's whereabouts. Weather was unpredictable, and as large and resourceful as S.H.I.E.L.D. was, even they couldn't quite be everywhere at once. It didn't help matters that they still hadn't fixed and updated their Helicarrier after said floating headquarters had been wrecked last year. During the few weeks they spent looking for the kid, there were no new sightings of weirdness that would have warranted S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention. Not on the "strange energies" -field at least. One could almost forget that there had been hints of a new power lurking somewhere on Earth. But the search went on nevertheless, and Tony supposed it was partly out of pride and because Fury didn't like the idea of something presumably significant existing without him knowing much about it.

The search finally paid off when there was indication of a significantly out-of-place cold front above Chicago, and when closer inspection revealed there to be hints of the same chilly blue blob that Tony had caught on his scanners. That was why Tony was now in his Iron Man suit, standing on a roof of a skyscraper in central Chicago, with Steve Rogers beside him wearing the flag. It was a clear day, and Lake Michigan gleamed somewhere behind all the additional information in Tony's field of vision. Tony knew he wasn't alone with Steve. There were a few S.H.I.E.L.D. -agents somewhere in the area as well. Tony could maybe even guess which of the heat signature his thermal scanner picked up were from them.

"Fury seems oddly obsessed with finding this kid," Steve commented, crouching on the rooftop and peering down towards the crowded streets.

"You think so?" Tony asked, not looking at the super soldier as he did. He was in the middle of scanning the area, "Believe me, this isn't his only project right now."

"Do you think this kid really is that dangerous?" Steve pressed on.

"Hey, he _attacked_ me," Tony remarked, deliberately forgetting to mention the kid had also beat him by bashing him to the head with a stick, "Mostly out of self-defence, though. However, he did break into my tower and that's usually not a sign of friendship."

"I suppose..." Steve shrugged, "I wasn't exactly trained to beat up kids, though."

"Weren't you supposed to be the more soldier-y of us, Cap?" Tony glanced down at Steve, but only briefly, "We're just going to take him to custody, preferably without too many injuries. I'm not that happy about this either. But I too want to ask him some questions."

Steve was probably going to say something, but just then Tony caught sight of a bluish blob on the roof of a building.

"We got him," he announced.

* * *

**Author's Note: 50 reviews? Wow! Happy dance! To celebrate that: have an update! A not-really-but-maybe-fillerish update that is the calm before the storm...**

**I'm trying my best to keep both sides of this conflict equally right/wrong and equally good at what they do. Even though I feel that the Avengers and the Guardians clashing makes a lot of sense, writing it believably without making either side look like an idiot that jumps to conclusions is surprisingly hard... Well, you'll be the judge on how I will succeed I guess...**


	5. Taken

**5. Taken**

The kid was standing precariously on the edge of the building and didn't seem to notice when Tony landed behind him. Steve was beside Tony soon after, having jumped his way across the rooftops with his super serum powered jumps. He looked questioningly at Tony and then at the kid, and Tony nodded his helmeted head. Tony walked a few steps towards the kid and raised his hand. It was best to stun the kid now that he was still unaware of them. Just then, the kid turned around, and for a second Tony was sure the kid would fall right off the edge. But he didn't. The kid pointed his stick at Tony and Steve, surprise written on his pale features.

"Hello," Tony said almost merrily, deftly concealing his disappointment on their failed sneak-attack.

"Oh, it's you," the kid said after an awkward silence, "Tony Stark, right?"

"Yep, that's me," Tony said, briefly opening his mask to prove it. Might as well gain the kid's trust and get him to come quietly, "Nice weather."

The kid didn't answer. He didn't seem to be much of a talker. At least not in Tony's company. The kid's eyes flickered to Steve, and he frowned.

"Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" the kid asked, pointing an unhealthily pale finger at Steve.

"Um, on TV?" Steve said uncertainly, "I don't believe we've met in person."

"Well, we have now," the kid smiled, "And you see me too!"

Tony knew there were S.H.I.E.L.D. -agents closing in on them. He hoped the kid wouldn't be too alarmed by that. Just being in the presence of two people seemed to put the kid on edge. Or maybe it was just that those two people were a part of the group who had defeated an alien invasion around a year ago.

"Hey, Stark," the kid suddenly said, "If you're here because of that knocking-you-out-thing, I said I was sorry, okay? No hard feelings?"

Steve looked at Tony and mouthed something like _"That kid knocked you out?"_ but Tony smartly ignored it. The agents were on the roof now. Tony could see them moving out of the corner of one of the screens in his field of vision. And apparently the kid saw them too. He took a small step back, almost over the edge.

"Hey," Steve said in a calming tone, raising his hands, "There's no need to get nervous. We're not going to hurt you."

The kid obviously didn't believe him. He raised his staff again, but then shook his head and bit his lip in some silent conflict.

Then he jumped.

"Oh, goddamnit!" Tony blurted out and hurried with Steve to the edge. The kid fell a few feet before suddenly shooting to the side like a leaf caught in the wind. Then he righted himself and was flying away.

"Okay," Tony sighed, "So the kid can fly. I'm on it."

* * *

Jack felt like cursing. Okay, he did a few times too. It had been almost a month after he had busted into Stark's tower, and he had already been sure Stark would have let the whole thing slide by now. But there the man was now, in his armour and everything. And he had brought friends. One of them was that guy - Captain America? - who was a part of that superhero team, whatever Jamie had called them when Jack had last visited the boy... Oh, yes, the Avengers. And the rest were some sort of agents. Hadn't the Avengers been founded by some law-enforcement unit with a funny acronym for a name? Well, in any case, Jack had a feeling he was in serious trouble. He hoped he would have snatched an extra snowglobe from North for situations like this.

Stark was after him now, flying in that high-tech suit. The man could really go fast if he told the suit to put some power into it. Jack urged the wind to take him faster, diving under power lines and taking random turns between the buildings. Stark's suit seemed to move fluidly even in the labyrinth of houses, but Jack was way smaller, way skinnier, and _way_ nimbler. And if things got really tough, he could dive close to the streets, into the throng of people. He was invisible to most of the pedestrians, but Stark definitely wasn't. After getting the man off his tail, Jack would take the north wind all the way to the Pole and hide it out there until the heat was off. North would always welcome him with open arms. It was a good plan, now to actually execute it.

Stark suddenly appeared from behind a corner, flanking Jack and extending an armoured hand. Jack flipped over the man in the air and instinctively fired a blast of magic from his staff. It hit the man right in the chest and sent him spinning into the wall of a building. Jack cringed.

"Okay, a bit harsh," he said out loud.

The man seemed to be okay, though. At least if the blast of energy he fired out of his palm was any indication. Jack twisted his body out of the way and then shot upwards, the wind whistling reassuringly in his ears. Well, so much for the "dive down among the pedestrians" -plan. Now there was shooting involved. That was something that definitely shouldn't happen among civilians. Jack passed the highest buildings and saw just open, clear sky ahead. He smiled. He was almost home free.

Something struck him in the shoulder, knocking him off-balance.

* * *

Damn, the kid was fast. And he packed quite a punch. Of ice. Tony sped after the kid, immensely glad the kid hadn't tried the freeze ray trick inside Stark Tower. Things could have been damaged, and then it would have got ugly. The kid was already above the skyline, and Tony hoped the kid had forgotten to pack his wormhole-globes for this trip. Tracking the kid down again would just be a pain.

Tony fired a repulsor ray at the kid's retreating back, careful not to aim at anything vital. It grazed the kid's shoulder, sending the kid into chaotic spinning. The kid flailed his arms and steadied himself in the air, shooting a blast of ice back at Tony. It sizzled harmlessly past Tony's ear, but there was more where that came from. Tony threw himself to the side to avoid two more attacks, even though he knew it would buy the kid enough time to get even more of a head start when the kid decided to get back on the move. Sure enough, the kid was flying away even as the last shot was still coming. Tony cursed under his breath and fired his own blast at the ice, causing a small explosion which he didn't have time to avoid. He flew through the scattering traces of energy and wondered if something like this had caused the lights above Manhattan as well.

The kid zipped a few rounds over the city with Tony hot on his trail. The kid showed no signs of tiring with their game of aerial cat-and-mouse. He even had the guts to laugh at some points when he avoided Tony with a daring somersault in the air. Tony, however, was getting very tired of this. He stretched out his hand again when the kid turned his back for a second. Time for a retry of the sneak-attack that had failed earlier on the roof.

It failed this time as well. The kid spun in the air almost quicker than Tony could follow and swung his staff, a stream of icy energy blasting Tony back. His suit protected him again, but he could feel the force of the blow even through it. He definitely had to get that staff away from the kid's hands.

"Hey, as fun as this is...!" the kid suddenly yelled, his voice audible even over the harsh winds above the city, "I don't want any trouble with you, you hear me?"

"Oh, yeah, I hear you," Tony said nonchalantly, "I just kind of find it hard to believe."

He took careful aim now that the kid was momentarily more or less staying in one place. He fired. The kid dodged, gasping in surprise and bringing his staff in front of him for protection, most likely out of instinct. Tony fired again. He hit bullseye.

The ray hit the kid right in the hand that was holding the staff. The kid let out a pained shout and curled into a ball in the air, the staff tumbling down towards the ground. Tony smirked for his victory. His smirk died, however, when the kid suddenly fell as if whatever had been carrying him through the air had decided to suddenly pack its bags and leave.

"Oh, _shit_!" Tony yelled, "JARVIS! All excess power to the thrusters!"

He shot after the kid. The kid was falling like a rock, in an almost surreal contrast to his earlier grace in the air. Long, skinny limbs flailed in a panicked manner, and Tony cringed when the kid hit a building on his way down with bone-shattering force. It didn't even do much to halt the kid's descend, just made him bounce much like the tooth box had done some weeks ago. This time Tony wasn't close enough to catch the falling thing mid-bounce. But thankfully, Tony wasn't alone this time either.

Steve Rogers sprinted across the rooftop of the building below and jumped. Captain America's super jump carried him over the street below, and the man caught the kid into a tight hold on the way. Steve landed on his feet onto the building across the street, the kid hanging limply in his arms.

"Nice catch, Cap," Tony said as he landed onto the roof next to Steve, "He's not dead, is he?"

Steve quickly set the kid's limp form onto the concrete roof and checked his vitals with professional ease. The kid was a bit bruised, and there was a tear in the front of the faded hoodie. Otherwise he seemed to be remarkably unscathed.

"He's alive," Steve confirmed, "Impressive, considering the hit he just took from that house."

"Well, he could be serumed like you, or something" Tony remarked, "A secret lab rat of some weirdo group who recruit homeless kids from the streets."

Steve shook his head.  
"I really hope not."

The kid groaned, his eyelids fluttering and his hands curling instinctively into fists. The too-bright eyes snapped open when the kid seemed to realize he was unarmed. He gasped and tried to sit up. Steve stopped him with a firm hand on the shoulder.  
"Easy there," Steve said comfortingly, "You might be hurt."

The kid stared at Steve in confusion before realizing who he was talking to.  
"Hey, now I know where I've seen you before," the kid said weakly, sounding a bit disoriented.

"Really?" Steve asked, still playing the nice guy. The role he was born to play, "We can maybe talk about it later?"

The kid shook his head. Tony sighed.  
"Stand back, Steve. I'll knock him out."

"What?" the kid asked, his eyes widening.

Tony aimed a blast at the kid's chest, and the kid only had time to yelp in surprise before his eyes rolled back and he passed out.

"Relax," Tony said when Steve glared at him accusingly, "I told you I'd just knock him out. Besides, he's way tougher than he looks."

Steve sighed.  
"Yeah, definitely seems like it."

"You can carry him," Tony said and looked down over the edge of the roof, "I'll see if I can find the kid's stick. I'll catch up with you."

What went unnoticed by them all was a pair of sinister amber eyes in the shadows of a skyscraper.

* * *

Nicholas St. North was in a very good mood. The preparations for Christmas were going nicely, the elves had stayed out of trouble for an exceptionally long while and the weather was crisp and as pleasant the Arctic weather could. The only thing dampening his spirits was the fact that Pitch Black was still at large. To be fair, the Boogeyman hadn't really done anything after that failed attempt at stealing the children's memories – again – and there had been no sign of him for a month. Maybe Pitch had just slipped back under his bed to recover, to wait for the fear and lingering belief to power him enough so that he could go back to preying on dreams. That would give the Guardians time to prepare for him. Because he would be back. He always would.

North had settled into his favourite armchair and had a mug of tea waiting for him on the table. Fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. In every way, it was a perfect evening. Something which of course had to be ruined with very grave news.

North had just sipped his tea when a flash of feathers burst into the room through one of the large windows. The few yetis who had been close to the window stumbled backwards in alarm, some dropping what they were carrying. North was startled as well by Toothiana's sudden entrance, and he only barely managed to keep his tea from spilling.

"Toothy?" North asked worriedly when the fairy stopped in mid-air, surrounded by her little helpers, all having a panicked expression on their faces, "What's the matter?"

Tooth took a deep breath and explained in a shaky voice. North listened with growing dread and then without a second thought went for the Guardian signal. The northern lights were early that night. Nobody noticed, except for the hidden spirits the lights were meant for. They were in the North Pole in just a few moments, Sandy flying his dreamsand aeroplane through the same window Tooth had used to enter and Bunnymund hopping in a while later, complaining about the cold.

North didn't even wait for the others to ask what was wrong. He wrung his hands and looked gravely at his companions. There indeed was a very noticeable lack of one three-hundred-year-old teenager in the group.  
"Tooth just found out..." North began quietly, "Jack has been taken."

* * *

**Author's Note: I thought I promised slower updates a couple of chapters ago? Not that anyone's complaining, I suppose :). Well, after this they definitely will be a bit slower, because I have other stuff to do and there's still some serious editing going on in chapters after this. But yeah, Steve can see Jack too now, because he was told there was a kid they needed to find... The other agents might or might not believe, I suppose it's up to them.**

**Since this story takes place mostly in USA, I have to apologize in advance, because my geography knowledge on USA is pretty abysmal. I try to do my research and keep the locations vague enough - with a few exceptions of course - so that the distracting errors with distances and such will be minimized... Again, I am open for criticism and errors are free to be pointed out.**

**Thank you thank you for the awesome reviews again!**


	6. In Custody

**6. In Custody**

The boy had been placed into a small cell with transparent walls. It was much like the one S.H.I.E.L.D. had used for Loki, except this one didn't have thousands of kilometres of empty air below it. This cell had been built inside one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters some time after the boy had broken into Stark Tower. It was guarded closely by both human and electronic eyes and devices Steve couldn't recognize. He wondered if most of the devices were a waste of money. Hadn't Tony said this boy could fool cameras?

Now the boy wasn't going to do anything for a while, though. He had been unconscious for hours after Tony had stunned him. Steve and Tony had had more than enough time to transport the kid to the location Fury had stated. Fury had let them go back to their usual business after the boy had been secured. That had been an hour ago, and for some reason Steve had found his way back to the boy's cell.

He felt sorry for the boy. The poor thing looked sickly, lost, and of course very young. Steve had seen horrible things happen to children, but it never got that much easier. Steve had to admit that he was also curious. The child had some very strange powers. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe this kid had been experimented on, much like Steve had been. Or maybe the kid was something like Thor, a godlike being. Also, the kid had claimed to have met Steve somewhere. But where? He really didn't know.

The kid's hand twitched, and he jerked into a sitting position so quickly it should have sent him right back down due to blood rushing into his head. But instead, the kid just looked around, bright blue eyes blinking owlishly and a pale hand tentatively feeling his ribcage. Once the kid realized he was relatively unharmed and that he was locked up into a cell, he sprang to his feet, eyes wide with what Steve assumed was panic.

"Hey," Steve said, "Take it easy."

An agent who had been guarding the cell muttered a few words into his microphone, but Steve mostly ignored it. Because as soon as the child settled to his feet, blue swirls bloomed all around the boy, spreading outwards in a spider web of ice. Steve stared at the floor and pressed his hand to the cell's glass wall – which probably wasn't really glass or at least not entirely so. The surface had instantly turned ice cold.

"Take it easy," Steve repeated when the frost continued to spread, already climbing up the walls, "I don't think that's a good idea..."

The boy suddenly shrieked in pain and collapsed onto his knees. The frost melted under the sudden heat that seemed to emanate from the floor. Steve could see the air near the floor wavering, and the kid scrambled backwards and curled up into a corner, hugging his knees and trying to keep his bare feet from getting into contact with the hot floor. Steve felt another sting of sympathy for the boy.

"Good. He's awake," came Fury's strong, even voice from behind Steve, "Rogers? You're still here?"

Steve just nodded. He was sure Fury had known exactly where he had been.  
"Can you stop doing that?" he asked, nodding towards the heated floor, "I think he just panicked. He wasn't trying to get out."

Fury seemed to consider it for a moment and then pushed a button on some nearby device Steve couldn't recognize. The floor in the cell seemed to cool down, and the kid cautiously let his feet touch it again. He didn't uncurl from his foetal position, though. Fury knocked firmly on the glass.

"Are you listening?" he boomed.

The kid looked up hesitantly. He nodded.

"Good," Fury said, "Now how about you answer some questions for us?"

The boy watched Fury warily.  
"Are you going to turn the heat back up if I won't?"

The boy's voice was a bit faint, strained from the pain. Fury crossed his arms but didn't answer, just stared. The boy huffed.  
"So you will? That's real nice. Really _heroic_."

"The floor is there to keep a lid on those powers of yours," Fury said sternly, "It's a precaution. So don't try anything."

"Me?" the kid snapped, "You're the ones who kidnapped me for no reason!"

"You are the one who attacked Stark in his tower," Fury fired back.

The kid folded his arms over his knees.  
"I guess this is exactly why it's good that adults don't usually see us," he muttered mostly to himself, "They mess everything up."

"What do you mean?" Steve couldn't help asking.

Fury glanced at Steve warningly with his good eye.  
"Rogers, I think it's best if you leave the questioning to me for now. Go see that Stark isn't doing anything he shouldn't be doing."

Steve frowned, knowing full well Fury just wanted to get rid of him. But he also knew that Tony certainly wanted to know when the kid woke up. The billionaire would want to ask the kid some questions as well. If Fury let him, that is.

"Remember," Steve said before he left, "He's just a kid."

"A dangerous one," Fury reminded, "And he doesn't seem interested in cooperating with us."

"Hey, I'm right here!" the boy said indignantly.

Steve gave the kid a sad smile and then, reluctantly, went to find Tony.

* * *

"Wait, _what_?" Bunnymund growled, "Frostbite's been taken? How?"

Sandy conjured up sand-images and gestured with his hands so frantically that no one could exactly get what he was saying. But his little fit did seem to contain a lot of expressions of disbelief and some mild profanity.

"One of my fairies saw it all," Toothiana explained when the Guardians had mostly recovered from their shock, "She was flying over Chicago when she saw Jack get knocked down by two men in funny suits."

"What do you mean by funny suits?" North asked, "You did not mention that before."

"I think it means that Mr. Stark got to him," Toothiana said miserably, "Maybe he brought those agents he works with into it as well."

North curled his large hands into fists in silent anger. His bushy eyebrows furrowed.

"Where did they take 'im?" Bunnymund asked, cracking his knuckles, "We need to bust 'im out!"

"She couldn't follow them all the way," Toothiana said, "So I don't really know."

"And," North pointed out quietly, "Even though we want to, we cannot just march in and get him back. Gets complicated."

"Why not?" Bunnymund's fur bristled, "They just found out 'bout us and already crossed the line! They took one of us!"

Sandy hung his head, conjuring up a few images out of dreamsand.

"Exactly!" North pointed at Sandy, "Something like... Shield? Was it? Something like them are worst when it comes to mixing with us."

"But they protect people too," Toothiana pointed out, "In their own way. Maybe there's some way to negotiate with them."

"Are too paranoid," North said, crossing his tattooed arms, "Would see us as threat. Maybe already do. We need to find good way to go with this."

"There's another thing," Toothiana said, "I think Pitch might have been in the area as well. My fairy had a feeling he was close, but he was gone before she could find him."

The Guardians exchanged worried glances. As if things weren't already bad enough. Sandy made a snowflake and then a picture of a map. Toothiana nodded. It indeed would be best to just find Jack first. And pray to the Moon that they would find him fast.

* * *

"The kid is awake," Steve informed Tony when he found him. However, it turned out Tony already knew. The billionaire was looking at a small screen in the corner of a room. On the screen Steve could see video feed of the room with the kid's cell. Fury was there, interrogating empty air. The kid was nowhere to be seen. So Tony really had been right; the boy could fool cameras.

"I hijacked one of Fury's cameras," Tony said absently when Steve looked at him questioningly, "Fury's fault; he said I could hang out in this room."

"I doubt _that _is what he meant," Steve pointed out, but didn't say more on the subject. It wouldn't change anything anyway.

"It looks funny, doesn't it?" Tony said without any indication he had heard Steve, "All I can hear are the questions. The kid can fool the mikes too. I wonder how he does that."

"What would be your guess?" Steve asked, because he had quickly learned that Tony usually had a theory about everything he "wondered".

Tony shrugged his shoulders.  
"I think he might not be as tangible as we think he is. Or alternatively, he has natural tendency to emit the most sophisticated and specific interference I've ever seen. You seem to be attached to the kid, by the way. What? Some sort of kinship? You were in a block of ice for decades and Peter Pan over there is a freezer with legs."

"He's a _kid_," Steve said impatiently, "I really don't see how this is so bad that we have to start torturing children, super-powered or no."

"Well, I guess you have a point there... hey!"

The computer screen had gone black. Tony sighed.  
"Damn. Fury must have switched off the cameras."

"There's something he knows that we don't," Steve stated.

Tony nodded.  
"There's _always _something Fury knows that we don't."

* * *

After getting rid of Rogers, Fury told the guard to leave as well. He knew they were treading on very precarious ground with this kid, on ground that involved very closely guarded secret findings he wasn't ready to share before he had a bit more information. Once Fury was alone, he leaned forward towards the reinforced glass.

The kid was still sitting in the corner, looking deceptively vulnerable. He could almost have passed for a normal teenager. Almost. But there were a lot of things just off about him. The deathly pale, frosted over skin. The white hair that was frozen into spikes at some parts. The eyes that reminded Fury an awful lot of Loki. And of course the fact that the kid's body temperature was far below normal.

"Who are you?" Fury asked. The question felt almost odd on his tongue. He usually always knew who people were.

The kid looked up at him.  
"I didn't want any trouble, okay?"

"I didn't ask you that."

"I was just going through Chicago to visit a friend. Last time I checked that wasn't a crime."

"The name."

The kid sighed and looked at his knees.  
"I'm Jack Frost."

That was most likely a code name. And a fitting one at that.

"Who do you work for?" Fury asked without giving the kid a break.

"What?" Frost looked almost amused, "Why do you think I'm working for someone?"

Fury turned to switch off the cameras and then took a step towards the cell, his face almost touching the glass and glared at Frost. Very threateningly.  
"We have known about you for a long time."

Well, that was stretching the truth a bit. They did know _something _about the energies, but this boy didn't need to know exactly how little they knew. Frost's eyes widened.  
"About _me_?"

"We have known about this energy you use to create your ice," Fury elaborated grudgingly, "We have had findings, sightings of them for years, but we haven't been able to pinpoint the source. You have been very discreet about it. Up until recently. Until Burgess."

That struck a cord with the kid. His eyes widened slightly before he masked his surprise. But Fury had glimpsed enough to know the kid was well aware of what he was talking about.  
"You know about that," he stated, "Strange sightings, mostly dismissed as kids' stories. But on certain Easter Sunday we caught sight of so much of your... signatures, that we started to think there had to be something behind it. Manhattan has just confirmed it."  
He folded his arms.  
"And you are not alone."

"You seem awfully sure about that," Frost scoffed, but Fury knew he had been right. There was a clear desire to protect someone behind Frost's words. The kid tried to hide it, but failed rather miserably.

"I am sure," Fury said, "And you'd better be sure that if we find your group to be a threat to the people, we will waste no time bringing them down."

"We'd threaten you?" Frost blurted out, confirming Fury's suspicions of there being a group, "We have never done anything like that!"

"Well, we can't be sure about that, can we?" Fury said, "You are very elusive. We aren't taking any chances. That's why we need to know what we are dealing with."

"You don't have to _deal_ with anything," the kid said, "All you need to know is that Burgess and the Manhattan-thing weren't anything dangerous."

"What was it, then?"

"We're the _Guardians_. It was us defending people."

Defending? If that really was true, the whole thing was going towards the best case scenario. However, that was just the kid's words against solid proof of the kid breaking into Stark's tower. It was a place any criminal or terrorist would dream of getting into. That and the kid seemed to contradict himself a lot with his answers. If there was something people needed to be defended from, then how come it wasn't dangerous?

"What do you mean by that?" Fury asked.

"Look," Frost said firmly, "I've already said more than enough. I want to get out of here now, please."

Frost finally stood up to his full height, which to be fair wasn't all that impressive. Ice curled under the kid's bare feet, and Fury prepared to press the precaution button just in case. He hadn't been sure if the intensely heated floor would be as effective against the strange ice powers as they would have liked, but it did seem to function well in such a small space. And while the kid had apparently been very resistant to most physical damage, high temperatures seemed to bother him quite a lot. It made sense, considering the kid's unusual properties.

"Who or what are you defending people from?" Fury asked.

Frost looked a bit uneasy. He bit his lip and looked at Fury almost apologetically.  
"No one you need to think about."

Fury let out a sigh. The kid had been surprisingly cooperative up until this point.

"You do realize you can't get out without giving us proper answers," he said to the kid.

Frost clenched his hands into fists.  
"Okay, how do I put this..." he seemed to be debating something with himself. Fury waited patiently, and after a long silence the kid finally continued, "There are five of us, and we're a bit different from you. We could be called spirits, and it takes belief to actually see us. We've been around longer than you know, and we've never meant any harm. We're just here to protect people."

"And who are the others?"

The kid had that inner struggle again before he answered:  
"Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and the Sandman."

The kid fell silent again and didn't say anything more, not for a long while. What he had just said seemed very far-fetched. Then again, Fury had seen many far-fetched things in his life. It was clear this group of "spirits" did exist, and they seemed to take their identities after children's stories and holiday mascots. That was... not threatening at all, but maybe that was exactly the point.

"If your group really is defending people," Fury said finally, "That means we might be working for similar goals."

"No," the boy said immediately, "I know where you're going with this. Look, I know what you guys do and for the most part it's great. I mean, that thing with the aliens last year was brilliantly handled. It really was. But..."  
He sighed.  
"What you do is different from what we do. The Guardians are not meant to fight in your wars. Not directly. Really, it would just be best if you left us alone."

When Frost spoke, he looked right at Fury, and Fury could see the kid knew S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't possibly leave these Guardians alone. If they did, they wouldn't be doing their job right.

* * *

Jack lay on his side at the back of the small cell. He didn't really know what he should do. He knew he had to get out. He could most likely pull it off too, but if he did, things would get ugly. He would have to fight his way out, and then these people would surely want to hunt him down out of self-defence. And if he stayed, the Guardians would get worried. Maybe they already were. He knew his companions wouldn't take kindly to having one of their own taken. The whole thing was very quickly getting out of hand.

The whole mess was probably Jack's own fault. He should have been more discreet about retrieving the teeth. But how was he supposed to know Stark's devices would actually detect him? That had never happened before as far as he remembered. Somehow he had always thought the Guardians to be something human technology would never touch unless they wanted it to. But even after being discovered, Jack could have acted a bit more diplomatically about it. Although, he supposed, being caught breaking into the tower of a billionaire who probably had tons of super-modern weapons in there was an easy way to _not _make a good first impression. Well, that couldn't really be helped. Not any more.

Jack curled up into a tighter ball. He wasn't feeling well. Being cooped up in a small space for long went against his nature. He was a nature spirit. He was supposed to be outside. And he was supposed to have his staff with him at all times. He didn't know where it had fallen or if someone had found it. All he knew was that there was a hollow feeling in his chest, like he was missing a piece of himself. Stark's blast had charred the staff a bit too, and that added a dull, burning ache into the mix as well.

They had brought him something to eat and drink. They had pushed them in through some needlessly complicated system that allowed them to put things into the cell without really opening up an escape route for anything human-sized. Of course, one of the guards was there ready to push the floor-heating button if Jack tried anything. He hadn't. After that man – Fury – had left, Jack had lain down and didn't bother moving from that spot. He mostly just focused on keeping his natural coldness from frosting the floor and making someone think he was "trying something".

How many people exactly could see him here? Jack wasn't sure, but he was fairly certain not many. The two people taking turns guarding him certainly could, as could Fury and Stark and that Rogers-guy. Maybe Stark had showed them whatever he had seen on the cameras to make them believe. Maybe they all believed after that Fury-guy had told them that there was a potentially dangerous boy with frost powers they needed to keep detained. Or maybe they all just still believed in fairy tales. Jack found that last one unlikely. Well, now they did, thanks to him, whether they thought about it that way or not. These people were paranoid. That easily made them believe in things they couldn't see, especially if said things could be dangerous. That was why Jack hadn't brought up Pitch, even though he knew it would have helped his case. The Boogeyman certainly didn't need any believers this soon after his downfall. Especially not among these people. Adult belief was different from that of a child. It didn't fuel spirits quite as well, but for Pitch it would no doubt be a fantastic opportunity. Paranoia was a type of fear, after all.

* * *

Fury stood in front of his screens, his arms crossed firmly in front of him. On the screens there was feed from some of the cameras pointed at Frost's cell. Most of them displayed an empty room. The only one that showed anything more was through Stark's energy-filter. In that Fury could see a blue silhouette curled up into a ball on the floor of the cell. It hadn't moved for hours after Fury had left the kid. Well, if "kid" was the correct word for the being they had in custody. Throughout the interrogation, Fury had had a feeling he had been talking to someone much older than what the kid seemed to be. He would have to ask about that later. But for now he had decided to let Frost be for a while, to let him think about if stubbornness really was the right way to go. Frost was withholding a lot of information from them, and despite claiming his group protected people, he had refused to tell what it was they were protecting people _from_. Fury took it as a sign that the kid was either lying about the nature of the group or that what these Guardians protected people from was something incredibly secret. There was still much they didn't know. Like how exactly this kid had come to be.

They had conducted a very basic medical examination for Frost when he had been brought in. It had simply declared that the kid shouldn't have been alive. His blood was barely running and his heartbeat was sluggish. His extremities should have fallen off a long time ago due to the cold, but there wasn't even any signs of frostbite on him. And there didn't seem to be any traces of anything foreign, no chemicals or nanomachines in his system either. It was as if the kid had simply born to be that way. Then there was the staff Fury had confiscated from Stark. Apparently it belonged to the kid, and the kid had used it to shoot ice. It was just a piece of old, dead wood to them and their scanners. It probably required the kid to work. The kid might very well be some sort of spirit-creature just like he had said.

"What are we going to do about this?" asked agent Hill from where she sat beside Fury.

Fury didn't answer for a while. After briefly informing all available Avengers of a group of four potentially super-powered beings being out there, he had told Stark to look for energy signatures at least somewhat matching the kid's. It was probably a wild goose chase, and Stark would likely tire of it quickly and come up with a better way of tracking these Guardians down. However, Fury was rather sure the Guardians would now be far less careful. After all, they probably wanted their young member back. Unless they just didn't care. Fury would give it a few days, but then they would need to change their tactics.

* * *

**Author's Note: Glxblt you have no idea how many times I've had to rewrite that interrogation scene! Hopefully I finally got it down more or less okay...**

**So I was away for the weekend and when I got back the review-count had hit 98! At first I thought I might wait until it got all the way to 100 just because, but then I got this AMAZING review from Mmmmmmm-Chicken and that made me so happy I decided to post this now. That review wasn't even for this story, but for my other story, called "Battle"! But since Mmmmmmm-Chicken told in the review that they'd be following this too I'm thanking them for those lovely words here. So, thank you!**

**And of course thank you to everyone else who has reviewed too!**

**Also, since things are finally starting to get going, I can post longer chapters! Yay!**


	7. The Calm Before the Storm

**7. The Calm Before the Storm**

The winds were getting restless. Their companion had been forcefully taken from them, and even they didn't quite know where their frost child was. But they were Baby Tooth's best lead, especially combined with her own instincts. Queen Toothiana had dispatched a group of fairies to look for Jack, who had been taken by some men in funny suits. Baby Tooth had insisted to be a part of the search party, and her queen had of course said yes. The queen herself had taken to the field as well.

They had started from Chicago, where Jack had been attacked. From there they had scattered, systematically searching. Now Baby Tooth was as alone as she could be, considering she could always sense her sisters and her queen wherever she went. She could also almost sense her Jack-boy as well. Her Jack, who had protected her when she had been alone in the claws of that monstrous Pitch Black. Her Jack, who had given her her nickname. Her Jack, with whom she had spent enough time to know exactly how his presence felt like. Now it was her Jack-boy who needed her help. And Baby Tooth would find him.

Baby Tooth couldn't quite communicate with the wind, not like Jack could. But she could read its worry from the way it swayed her when she battled through the air with her tiny wings. The winds had followed Jack's captors to a secret place, a place so secret even the winds could barely get into. Then they had lost him. Jack had to be indoors somewhere. Somewhere with very little points of entry for anyone larger than a small bird.

It was three days after Jack's disappearance when Baby Tooth found him. She could feel the chill that wasn't a sinister kind of chill emanating weakly from a fortress of a building hidden in wilderness. It indeed had very few points of entry that weren't guarded. Even the air vents had very thick gratings on them. But a tooth fairy could enter any place if she just wanted. And Baby Tooth definitely wanted. She needed to see if her Jack-boy was all right.

* * *

Jack had almost fallen asleep. He wasn't quite sure how long he had been in the cell. A few days, maybe. The air felt too thick to breathe properly, and the burning hollowness in his chest had gotten worse. Fury had visited him a few more times, but Jack didn't really know what more he should say to the man. He had tried his best convincing the man that he and his companions just needed to be left alone. The man hadn't believed him, no matter how many times he tried to explain it. Thankfully, Fury hadn't resorted to using the floor again. In fact, Jack was fairly sure Fury wasn't inherently a _bad _person. He was just very dedicated to his job. Too bad said job required him to know about things that could threaten people. And people were always threatened by something they didn't know. North had been right; adults seeing them definitely wasn't good.

Jack was brought back to awareness when he heard a very familiar chirp. He immediately looked for the source, and saw a small colourful form floating right behind his cell.

"Baby Tooth?" Jack asked quietly. The agent guarding him looked at him questioningly, and Jack decided it was best to not bring the man's attention to Baby Tooth. The man might not see the fairy, but it was better to be cautious. Jack slowly rose to his hands and knees and crawled to where his food was deposited. He hadn't touched his food yet, but now the needlessly complicated system it was brought in with would be of some use. He motioned silently for Baby Tooth to come closer, and the little fairy quickly found a gap in the system she could easily squeeze through. Once the tiny fairy was in the cell, she immediately rushed to cling to the front of Jack's frosted hoodie. Jack pressed his hands to his chest, around her small body, and crawled back to his old spot and rolled onto his side so that his back was turned to the guard.

"You have no idea how glad I'm to see you," he whispered, clutching Baby Tooth to his chest.

Baby Tooth chirped in response.

"Can you tell the others I'm all right?" Jack asked, "And let them know where I am?"

Baby Tooth nodded, giving Jack a look which Jack assumed meant: "What did you think I came here for? We've all been worried sick about you and we need to get you home." Or something along those lines.

"You're awesome, you know that?" Jack said and grinned at the little fairy.

Baby Tooth nodded proudly and then looked around as if searching for a way to get Jack out of the cell. She zipped over to look at the machines on the other side and pointed at them questioningly. Jack just shrugged, not really knowing what to say or do. He had been thinking of finding a more peaceful route out, but on the other hand, the Guardians were already looking for him...

Baby Tooth squeaked when the guard knocked against the cell's wall.  
"Hey, kid? What are you doing there?"

Jack looked at Baby Tooth. The little fairy was a fierce fighter, but if the cameras around them spotted her, she would definitely be overwhelmed and caught. Jack couldn't let that happen.  
"Go," he whispered.

Baby Tooth cast a hateful glare at the guard and then looked sadly at Jack.  
"I'll be fine," Jack mumbled almost inaudibly, "Now go."

"What did you just say?" the guard demanded, "And who're you talking to?"

Baby Tooth slipped out of the cell and disappeared somewhere into the tiny gaps and routes only someone small like her could find. Jack rolled over to face the guard.  
"I was talking to you," he said to the agent, "But I doubt you want me to repeat what I said."

The guard rolled his eyes.  
"Goddamn teenagers these days..."

* * *

"Anything new?"

Fury looked at Stark, who was sprawled on a couch in their small meeting room. Fury had called for a meeting as soon as Stark had come back in from his latest scouting trip. Hill and Barton had been quick to answer the call, and Rogers had been just a few moments late, looking like he had spent the last few hours punching trees outside. Fury reminded himself to get Rogers some new punching bags if he planned to keep the Avengers in the building for much longer.

"Nothing," Stark answered Fury's question, "Nothing out of the ordinary at least. How much longer are you planning to go on like this? I have other things to do than chasing ghosts, you know."

"That's why I called you here," Fury said, "These Guardians haven't shown themselves for three days. I've gotten a hold on Banner, and he agreed to come here."

"Banner?" Stark echoed, "Which one do you think we'll need? The scientist or the Jolly Green Giant?"

Fury didn't answer. Instead, he went on:  
"I've also tried to contact Thor. If these Guardians really are spirits, we need someone who is more like them."

"You think Thor knows something?" Rogers asked.

"It is possible," Fury admitted, "We've been trying to get him here since yesterday. He should be on his way soon enough."

"And in the meantime?" Stark asked, "Has the Frost-kid said anything?"

"Nothing new," Fury said, "Unless you're interested in his age. He claimed to be three hundred and pushing."

There was a moment of silence.

"That's a lot," Barton said finally.

"And he is supposed to be the youngest of their group," Fury added, "If what he says is true, then whatever it is we're dealing with has been around for a long time. That's especially why I want Thor to take a look at him."

The group agreed in silence. Without the God of Thunder, it was very likely they would quickly hit a dead end with this, especially if the other Guardians weren't planning to show up any time soon.

Stark looked at his knees thoughtfully, crossing his arms over the blue glow of the arc reactor that shone through his shirt.  
"Well, while we wait for old thunderstorm to show up, we could send Steve to see the kid."

Rogers' eyes widened.  
"What? Why?"

"Well, the kid seemed to know you and didn't hate you. If he's not talking to Fury, he might say something to the nice guy."

Fury thought about it. He looked at Rogers, who admittedly was the only one in the whole facility who could be considered "a genuinely nice guy". And Rogers clearly wanted to talk to Frost as well. Maybe this really was a time when it was Fury's turn to leave the questioning to someone else.  
"That is not a bad idea," he said, "Well, Rogers?"

Stark folded his hands behind his head, looking rather pleased of himself. Rogers shrugged his shoulders, only barely hiding a smile.

"Well, all right. It's worth a shot."

* * *

Fury had told the agent guarding Frost's cell to leave. Steve was surprised at this. Then again, it was unlikely Frost would try getting out while being in the presence of a super soldier. And Steve knew the others would be watching them through the cameras. Cameras that couldn't really see the boy. All in all, Fury put an awfully lot of trust in Steve at the moment. Then again, Steve _was _the nice guy. He could admit so much himself.

Frost was lying on his back on the floor of the cell, tracing pictures into the air with his finger. He looked up when Steve entered, putting his hand down and sitting up.

"Hi?" the boy greeted questioningly.

Frost sounded tired. He didn't look all that well either. The dark circles around the boy's eyes had become darker still. Not to mention how thin the child was. Steve remembered catching him in Chicago. The boy had been as light as a sheet of copy paper, and just as pale as well. Steve noticed a plateful of untouched food in the corner of the cell.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" he asked, pointing at the food.

Frost glanced at the food and pulled his knees to his chest.

"I don't need it," he said quietly.

"You look like you need it to me."

Frost smirked.  
"Trust me, I don't. What are you doing here? Mr. Eye-Patch decided to send in the good cop?"

Steve chuckled.  
"Well, I guess you could say that."

The boy crossed his arms.  
"I've already told Fury all he needs to know about us. I don't know what more he wants."

"I think he just wants to know what to think about you," Steve said, "These people need to keep count of all powerful things they need to fight. Or that could fight for them."

"I was kind of hoping I would be let out if I just behaved nicely. But you're saying the only way to convince him we shouldn't be hunted down is to work for him?" Frost shook his head, "Not going to happen."

"It's not so bad," Steve said, "Working for him, I mean."

"That's not really the point."

Steve waited for Frost to say something more, but the boy was quiet. Steve wasn't sure where he should go next with the conversation. He needed something to get the kid to talk. Something Fury hadn't thought about. Then he remembered the thing he'd been curious about.

"Hey, you know what... um," he hesitated, "Let's forget about that for a moment. Can you tell me instead where you've seen me before?"

Frost stood up, stepping on the tiles of his cell floor and avoiding the seams. Steve wasn't sure if it was because the seams would conduct the most heat if someone decided to switch the floor on or just because the boy was superstitious. Or maybe it was just a game. Frost skipped over to the glass wall and gave Steve a mischievous grin.

"I don't feel like telling you right away," the kid said, "Not without getting some answers of my own."

Steve stared at the kid.  
"I don't think that's how interrogations work."

"Well, think of it as a game then. You look like you might agree to play one."

"You like games?" Steve guessed, deciding to humour the strange kid for the moment.

"I _love _games," Frost said.

"Do you have a favourite game?" Steve asked.

The boy looked at Steve very seriously.  
"Hopscotch."

"Really?" Steve raised a brow, "I never would have guessed. I didn't find it very fun when I was little."

"It isn't, really. But you never said anything about fun, did you?"

"I... I see," Steve was at a loss as to what he was supposed to say. So he did what he figured was best if he wanted to get any answers from the kid, "Okay, fine you can ask me something if you want."

Frost grinned again, hopping a couple of light steps backwards.

"Where is my staff?"

Steve frowned. The boy probably meant the stick he had carried with him in Chicago. Tony had found it, hadn't he? But then...  
"I don't think Fury wants me to say anything about that," Steve admitted.

"Yeah, I know," Frost said, "I tried to ask him, but he didn't say anything. Can you at least tell me if one of you got it?"

Steve could see it was important for the kid. The kid looked at him almost pleadingly, all the previous cheerfulness gone. It was not like the kid could get it now. To be fair, Steve didn't even know where the child's weapon had been placed after Fury had taken it from Tony.

"It's safe," Steve finally said.

Frost let out a sigh of relief. He really seemed attached to that old stick.

"Now will you answer my question?" Steve asked, "And I hope the answer isn't just 'on TV'."

"I don't watch TV that often," Frost said, "So no. But I've heard the news. You're Steve Rogers. Captain America. You crashed into the Arctic in the Forties."

Steve nodded slowly. He hadn't exactly expected the kid to bring up Steve's time as a human icicle above everything else. Then again, this kid was, as Tony had said, "a freezer with legs". Frost looked a bit apologetic, almost embarrassed. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and went on with his tale in a quiet voice:

"I was in the area back then. I saw you crash. By the time I actually got there, you were half frozen. I was sure you were dead. I stayed there for hours, though, just in case you were still alive and I figured it would be nice if you didn't have to die alone. Boy do I feel stupid now knowing I could have used that time to figure out some way to actually help. Sorry about that."

Frost fell silent and seemed to find the floor extremely interesting. Steve didn't know what to say. The silence grew uncomfortable. Steve knew he had to break it.

"That was around seventy years ago," he managed to say.

Frost laughed.  
"Didn't Fury tell you what I said about my age?"

Yes, Fury had told them. Three hundred and something. It should have been hard to believe, but Steve had worked with the God of Thunder just last year. However, Frost looked and acted like a kid. Maybe the kid was lying, maybe he wasn't. In any case, Steve could only nod in response.

"I survived because of the super soldier serum," he said, "You know about that too?"

"I keep up with the news when I feel like it," Frost said, "But I'm usually not that interested in war."  
He looked at Steve critically.  
"You do realize that I'm not telling you these things just to mess with you, right?"

"I do," Steve said, "Why _are _you telling me so much?"

"Because you seem like a nice guy."

Steve smiled. It was that obvious to everyone, huh?

"A lot of people say that," he said.

"You're probably the most likely person here to believe me and actually understand," Frost started pacing in the small space, "And that Fury-guy probably listens to you at least better than he listens to me. Someone needs to convince these people that the Guardians need to be left alone. We don't want to fight you, but we won't join you either. That's not what we're here for."

"Then what are you here for?" Steve asked.

Frost stopped pacing, looking at Steve again with that very serious expression.

"We're here to protect kids and childhood. Yes, sometimes we may have to fight to do that, but mostly we just make sure kids have plenty of wonder, hope, dreams, and all that good stuff in their lives."

Steve leaned against the glass wall of the cell. The wall wasn't quite freezing, but it was cooler than normal.

"A lot of people might say that those things won't matter if you're dead," he pointed out, "That stopping people from dying is the really important thing."

"It _is_ important," Frost said quietly, "Trust me, we do our best to protect people's lives too. But with the things we stand for, actually living those lives is much... nicer, don't you think?"

Frost took a step back, looking so much like the children he had just said he protected.

"I don't like being here," he said miserably, "And the kids will get upset if I'm not out there spreading fun."

The doors behind Steve slid open, and Steve took it as a sign that Fury had deemed the conversation too friendly. Maybe the man had suddenly started thinking Steve might just punch Frost's cell apart out of sympathy. To be fair, Steve almost did want to do that. But he still let the guard usher him out.

"Hey, Frost," he said before he left, "I think I might understand you."

Frost smiled at him.  
"Thanks. And you can call me Jack if you want."

Steve would try to have a talk with Fury. Although he doubted he would change the man's mind about anything.

* * *

Bruce Banner had to admit that he hadn't really expected he would be needed again so soon when he had agreed to work with the Avengers. Sure, he might have been _slightly_ more okay with the idea of turning into a giant green rage monster than he had been before – as long as it was for the common good – but he still preferred a bit more normalcy. As much normalcy as someone like him could get, that is. So when Fury had called him about a new, apparently invisible group of people who had superhuman powers, Bruce wasn't all that thrilled. The reports Fury had given him had described some very odd events, but Bruce wasn't going to start doubting them. He was a freak as well. Why wouldn't there be more of them on this Earth? It was almost a comforting thought.

When the jet that had been conveniently arranged to pick Bruce up touched American soil, there was already a transport with a S.H.I.E.L.D.-agent in it waiting for him. Now said transport – an inconspicuous but most likely very well reinforced dark grey car – was driving him towards an unknown destination. The radio was open, and the music was fairly relaxing with a merry yet steady beat. Bruce leaned his forehead against the window frame and watched the trees that blurred into lines. The clouds were darkening in the horizon, but otherwise it was a nice day. Bruce could almost forget that he was being driven towards a place where the Other Guy could be needed.

The agent driving the car made a quick call to someone. Bruce guessed it was to Fury. That man really wanted to stay aware of everything that was happening. It must have been a very tiring job, at least it would be for Bruce. Definitely not a job for him. He would just stick to his research and helping people and, occasionally, turning into the Other Guy if it was really necessary.

"So I understand things have been a bit freaky around here?" Bruce asked lightly when the agent finished the call.

The agent shrugged.  
"Maybe. I'm actually mostly here to drive things. I don't know much about what's going on."

"I suppose you're lucky, then," Bruce said.

"I guess so," the driver said, "From what I _have _heard, it's kind of a mess around here."

Bruce forced a smile on his face.  
"Well, I guess we'll find out about that soon enough."

* * *

Toothiana burst into North's workshop with heart attack-inducing abruptness for the second time that week. This time North was in the workshop's huge globe room along with Bunnymund, both gathered around a bunch of papers and one of North's half-magical computers. They spun around in the blink of an eye when Toothiana zipped to a stop next to them.

"I know where Jack is!" she chirped excitedly, "Baby Tooth found him!"

"Excellent work!" North boomed, "Your fairies have been extra helpful!"

Baby Tooth puffed her tiny chest out with pride.

"Great," Bunnymund said, "Now we can get 'im back. We'll confront these guys on our terms."

"Exactly," North put in, "These 'Avengers' are the greatest threat. We need to convince them to give us back our boy. Is a good start, but I believe this man is the one with most power over it in the end."

North held up one of his papers for Toothiana to see. She quickly recognized the bald man with an eye-patch who glared back at her from a black and white photograph.

"Nicholas Fury," Toothiana stated, "He's going to be difficult to convince to leave us be."

"We know," Bunnymund sighed, "But now that we know where Snowflake is being held, we can make sure we get these Avengers away from there for as long as it takes to talk some sense to this Fury."

"Does Sandy know about this yet?" Toothiana asked, "He's on the field, right?"

"He is," North said, "And he doesn't know yet. He should be here soon."

North went back to his papers as they waited for their eldest member to arrive. Bunnymund looked occasionally over North's shoulder and gave a comment or a suggestion for their plan of action. Toothiana fluttered close to them, sending her helpers on their tooth-retrieving duties when she had to. She was feeling very restless, and she was finally the one to voice what was probably on everyone's mind:

"If these people won't listen to us, we will have to fight them."

The grim looks on the others' faces told Toothiana that they all indeed knew it. The Guardians had never waged direct war with mortals. They had influenced battles throughout history, and they had fought nightmarish monsters and of course confronted Pitch several times. But now these people, these agents, had discovered them out of trust in technology and paranoia. It was very likely that the Guardians would have to fight them. They didn't like it, but if it was to protect their own, they were all prepared for it.

* * *

**Author's Note: For some reason I feel like this chapter is very similar to the previous one. Or maybe I've just been reading it too many times. Whatever, it had to be done to establish things so I can begin the real action in the next chapter. To make up for this a bit uneventful chapter I promise to post the next chapter quickly. I shouldn't give times but maybe tomorrow evening/night (GMT +2 time, that is)? Unless I decide to edit it even more. I do try to keep quality (what little I can manage at least) over speed as my policy when writing stuff.**

**I hope the fact that I don't like Steve that much didn't influence my writing negatively when doing his POV...**

**Also, I got soooo many reviews! I really didn't expect this much support for this. Thank you thank you all!**


	8. The Battle Begins

**8. The Battle Begins**

Fury was not very happy with the results of Steve's attempt at interrogation. Steve could see it even as he filled the others in on what had been said during his conversation with Frost. Or Jack, as the kid had allowed Steve to call him.

"So you didn't really get anything out of him," Fury said in a tone that indicated his hopes hadn't been very high in the first place.

Steve leaned to the polished table in the middle of the meeting room.

"I _did_," he said, "I think you should listen to him."

"You let his act get to you," Fury stated.

"So you think he's lying?" Steve noticed he had raised his voice just a little, "Look, just because I'm 'nice' it doesn't mean I'm gullible. I've seen people lie before. That kid was being pretty darn sincere."

"I never said he was lying," Fury said, "But he is not telling us nearly enough either."

"I think we should let him go," Steve insisted, "If we really want to find out something about these Guardians, this isn't the way to go."

Fury shook his head.

"We still can't be entirely sure what we're up against. We can't take any chances."

"What we do know," said Tony from his spot at the couch, "Is that there's a group of spirit-creatures with super powers and a really long lifespan whose gimmicks are based on holiday mascots and who like spreading joy all over the world. Am I the only one who's thinking actually seeing that would be one of the best highs ever?"

Fury looked at Tony very coldly. Tony shrugged his shoulders.

"Just saying."

"We will wait for Thor, then," Fury went on as if Tony hadn't said anything, "Hopefully we get this sorted out quickly."

Steve hoped so too. And he hoped it would get sorted out for the better.

* * *

Toothiana crouched on a slim tree branch, her eyes focused on the grey fortress that looked like an exceptionally well-guarded warehouse. Most of the guards were relatively hidden and probably electronic. Toothiana wasn't quite so well-versed in technology. That was North's forte. But she didn't need to know much about it for this scouting mission. She wouldn't even be going in now, not quite. Not when these Avengers were still in the building. She was too large to slip past their radars.

Baby Tooth chattered next to her, worrying about Jack and pointing out how many powerful people now stayed in the building where Jack was being held.

"I know," Toothiana whispered, "North is right; we need to get them out of the way."

When Toothiana had asked for volunteers to go inside in her stead, Baby Tooth had been the first to raise her hand. But she had done enough for now. Toothiana could see how weary she was; just leading her queen to her discovery had taken its toll on her. Toothiana knew Baby Tooth would be fine after a while if she rested, but before that Toothiana wouldn't send her into such a dangerous place.

The fairy she had sent to scout inside the building returned, landing on Toothiana's outstretched hand and giving her report. The people inside were calling for more reinforcements. A man named Banner – whom Toothiana could recognize as the man with a very dangerous split-personality – was on his way there. And a very efficient female agent had been called from her mission in South East Asia. She would be coming as soon as she could. Toothiana pursed her lips with worry.

"We need to intercept them," she decided, "Come, girls! Let's get the others!"

* * *

North watched as the lights all across the globe pulsed softly. The children's belief was strong, perhaps stronger than it had been in years. Pitch's effort to extinguish those lights had ultimately led the Guardians to be even stronger. And judging by recent events, they now had believers they could have done without as well. North wiped a large hand across his face, combing his long white beard thoughtfully. Toothiana had just returned from her scouting trip, and she had brought tidings none of the Guardians particularly liked.

"More of them," North stated after the fairy queen finished her report, "I do not like this."

"We'll still stick to the plan, right?" Bunnymund asked, "We'll just have to spread out more."

"I can talk to the woman in Asia," Toothiana volunteered, "It's my home turf. We should stop her before she can even start getting close."

Sandy created an affirmative checkmark over his head. Then he created a picture of a man turning into a giant and pointed to himself.

"Yes," North agreed, "Sandy can meet with Mr. banner. Bunny and I will go straight to Shield."

They had already agreed that it should be North who would go see Mr. Fury first. He would approach the man in peace while Bunnymund covered for him in case things got bad. North would talk to this man as equals, man to man. Leader to leader. Nicholas to Nicholas. Maybe he could explain this stubborn man something about them. Then, one way or another, they would get Jack out of there. If Fury or anyone else objected to that, they would fight.

"We will start right away," North decided, "Is everyone ready?"

"Ya know we are, mate," Bunnymund said.

Yes. North knew that indeed.

It took less than an hour for North and Bunnymund to be prepared and appear into the forest near where Jack was being held. A couple of Toothiana's fairies accompanied them in case they needed swift messengers. Tall trees rose around them, innocent and without any indication they were playing a part in hiding a secret base. Bunnymund sniffed the air, his ears perked and fur bristling.

"Something ain't right," he said in a low voice.

North agreed. Despite the apparent innocence of the forest, there was something sinister in the air. Of course, it could just be their own anxiety for things that were just about to happen. A heavy blanket of depression surrounded them, making the air almost physically stuffy to breathe. There seemed to be grey clouds gathering into the sky in anticipation of a thunderstorm. North spared a glance at the treetops high over them and then shook his head. He motioned Bunnymund to follow and continued onwards. His heavy boots sunk into the soft undergrowth with every step. His fur coat was a bit too warm for the weather, but he ignored the uncomfortable warmth and instead focused on the task at hand.

"North?"

North stopped at Bunnymund's call. He looked over his shoulder at the tall rabbit, who was staring at the shadows beside them.

"What is it?" North inquired.

Bunnymund was sniffing the air again, his paw going for a boomerang at his back.

"Something definitely ain't right," Bunnymund growled, "Pitch is here too."

North felt something cold sink into his stomach and he squinted into the darkness. Now he saw them too.

Dark shadows with spindly claws crawled among the trees like liquid spiders. Empty eyes and twisted faces flickered in and out of darkness. They were accompanied by black horses with demonic red eyes. Pitch's army of Nightmares was still rather small, but it seemed the Nightmare King had found some of his older allies to fill in the gaps in his ranks. They weren't corrupted dreams. No, they were something even more sinister. Corrupted _people_.

"Fearlings," North whispered.

Bunnymund nodded.

"I think they're going for Frostbite too."

North immediately drew his large sabres. The shadows glanced at them and then screeched, flitting deeper into the darkness and towards the hidden base.

"Oh, Shostakovich!" North blurted out, "We need to hurry!"

"Ya don't have to tell me twice, mate!" Bunnymund said and was on his way, hopping after the retreating mass of shadows and fear.

North bolted after him, his blades ready for action.

* * *

Bruce caught a glimpse of something golden that swept past the window.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" the driver – whose name had turned out to be agent Cunningham – asked, looking at his mirrors, "I don't see anything... maybe you're getting tired, Mr. Banner? We have been driving for a good while."

Well, now that Bruce thought about it, he was getting a bit drowsy. Cunningham shook his head.  
"Hell... _I'm _getting tired too... can barely keep my eyes open."

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked worriedly. The driver had been fine just a moment ago.

"Yeah," Cunningham said, "Hold on, I'll just pull over for a second. We can catch some fresh air."

Bruce sighed, but didn't protest. The problem with an inconspicuous vehicle was that it was also a bit old-fashioned compared to the stuff S.H.I.E.L.D. usually used. This car actually needed someone to drive it all the time. Cunningham pulled the car over and both men climbed out. Bruce breathed in the air that wasn't all that fresh seeing how they were at the side of a road. But it was fresher than in the car, at least. Cunningham stretched his arms over his head and yawned, looking up at the sky as he did.  
"I think a thunderstorm is coming," he commented nonchalantly, "It's already in the air. Gives me a headache."

Bruce looked up as well. Yes, the man was right. And Bruce had a feeling this thunderstorm wouldn't come alone.

He turned back towards the car and it took him a moment to actually register what the hell was going on there. A small, golden man floated near the vehicle, looking very proudly at the tyres that apparently had just been cut. There was at least three things wrong with that image.

"Hey!" Bruce shouted, "What do you think you're-?!"

"Who are you talking to?" Cunningham turned around, "Hey! The tyres've been cut!"

The little golden man looked back at Bruce, golden eyes widening. Then he smiled widely and waved. Bruce narrowed his eyes.  
"Okay, are you just trying to annoy me?"

The golden man shook his head, miming something that probably indicated he just wanted to talk.

"Um, Mr. Banner?" Cunningham said cautiously, "Are you alright? Look, we'll just change the tyres. We're _really _well prepared for damage."

The golden man inclined his head and raised his hand again, this time as a sign for the others to halt. Then the round, golden head snapped to the side, and the man stared into emptiness for a long moment, a moment during which Bruce held his hand up for a very perplexed Cunningham to keep the man still. Then the golden man turned back at them and Bruce watched with astonishment when images appeared over the man's head. Warning signs, Xs and other images telling them not to go where they were going. Bruce shook his head in irritation.

"This is getting weird. Yeah, let's change the tyres and get going."

He and Cunningham both approached the car, but the golden man raised his hand once more. Instead of a wave or some other gesture, though, the man brought his hand down swiftly... and a golden whip wrapped around the car and smashed it into a tree in one deafening boom that was followed by some broken, shrill clinks of the bulletproof windows shattering.

"WHAT THE-?" Cunningham screamed, stumbling towards the car. Bruce grabbed the man's shoulder, his hand shaking slightly.

"Wait!" he commanded.

The golden man looked at the wreckage of the car. The car's reinforcements hadn't apparently held at all in face of a golden whip. The golden man waved again and then he was flying away. Just like that. What a bastard.

"See if you can call Fury," Bruce said through clenched teeth, "Tell him we were attacked by... a weird, golden thing."

"What thing?" Cunningham asked, "I didn't see-"

Bruce glared at the man, tightening his hold on the shoulder just a little.  
"Just. Call."

The driver gulped and nodded. Bruce let the man go and turned to look at the spot where the golden man had disappeared into the forest. It had to be one of the things Fury needed help with. Might as well start working now. And vent some serious annoyance over the whole thing while he was at it.

"I'll see if I can catch it," he growled and then broke into a sprint, leaving a very confused agent staring after him.

He could already feel the change coming. He let it happen.

* * *

Natasha Romanoff had been mostly kept in the dark about the happenings in North America during her time in Asia. Her mission had nothing to do with the strange things that had happened lately. Nothing about the energies or the creatures behind them. Hers was a rather simple reconnaissance mission, or at least is should have been. But her targets had decided to get difficult, and she had been stuck in Thailand for weeks longer than she had estimated. Fury had already called her and said a few words about five super-powered creatures causing some trouble and warning her that she might be called back soon no matter what was going on in Thailand.

It both annoyed and intrigued Natasha. She had just got her mission back on the right track. She almost had everything she needed. She was sitting in a colourful outdoor restaurant in Bangkok, dressed like an average tourist and drinking ice water. She had wrapped a bandanna around her head to cover her red hair. The simple black T-shirt she wore along with Capri trousers concealed a surprising amount of weapons. She adopted an expression of a moderately fascinated tourist when she looked around, but her focus was solely on a certain customer in the same restaurant she sat in.

She sipped some water through painted lips. Her hand was tanned from the prolonged stay in Thailand, as was the rest of her. The customer a few tables away from her looked around in a bout of anxiety. Their eyes met for the briefest moment, but Natasha moved her gaze away quickly. The man didn't realize he had just looked into the eyes of his tracker.

Then Natasha's cell phone vibrated in her bag. She let out a very long sigh and put the thin device to her ear.

"What?" she asked in a low voice, "I'm in the middle of something."

"No you're not," Fury's voice came from the other end, "We've arranged you a ride back here. Something is up."

"Why is it that something is always up when I'm working?" Natasha whispered in annoyance, "Where do you want me to go?"

"There's a jet waiting for you a bit out of the ways from Bangkok. Watch out for invisible attacks."

Natasha rolled her eyes.  
"Just give me the location."

Fury did. Natasha paid her bill in cash and cast another look at her target. She hoped distracting her on the job was worth it all.

It took her a couple of hours to get to the location Fury had given her. Said location really was a bit out of the way, almost in a protected forest park. Not quite close enough to catch the attention of the local authorities. Natasha figured it was a bit of a waste of time and effort, seeing how S.H.I.E.L.D. could have just sent the small jet to the actual airport to pick her up. Or was Fury now paranoid enough to think these "Guardians" were watching the airports too? Natasha didn't really know what to think about it all. Apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. had caught something during her absence. Something strange that didn't work alone. Well, seeing how this planet had just recently been the battlefield of gods and aliens, Natasha didn't find the idea of hidden super-powered group all _that _weird.

She trekked the last stretch of the way on foot. She had thrown a dark grey jacket over her T-shirt and taken off her bandanna. The ground crunched under her combat boots and she disturbed a few birds that took off into a wild flight. The area was otherwise quiet, almost eerily so. The jet was there, in the midst of twisting trees near a serene lake. Natasha walked briskly up to the jet, stopping when she realized something was wrong. She could discern the pilot through the dimmed window. The man was slumped against the controls, the rise and fall of his chest indicating he was just unconscious. But unconscious was bad enough. Natasha fingered the Glock -pistol strapped to her hip, concealed by her shirt and jacket. The leaves in the trees rustled. She was not alone.

* * *

One would think that calling a godlike being who didn't reside on Earth at the moment would be difficult. However, after the battle with the Chitauri, Fury had made sure it was fairly easy, if a bit time-consuming. Not too long after Rogers' talk with the wintry kid in the cell did Thor finally arrive, thunder and lightning at his wake. He landed in front of the main doors of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s facility, looking exactly like he had when they had last met. Broad-shouldered, armoured, and with very Scandinavian features. Fury was there to greet him with a briefing.

"I called you here because we have a bit of a mystery in our hands," he explained as he led the other into the building, "A strange group calling themselves the Guardians has started acting up."

The mighty Asgardian looked at Fury questioningly.  
"The Guardians? Surely you don't mean the Guardians of Childhood?"

So Thor had known about them. Fury really hoped he would have got hold of the man sooner.

"That is exactly who I mean," Fury said grimly, "We have one of them in custody right now. He attacked Stark in his tower."

"You _captured_ one of them?" Thor's eyes widened in surprise, "I didn't know you were even aware of their existence!"

"We certainly are now," Fury muttered, "What do you know about them?"

"It isn't your business to go around capturing spirits!" Thor said sternly. Fury could see the man wasn't happy about the situation at all.

"We're just making sure we don't have another Loki in our hands," Fury pointed out.

Thor's face darkened at the mention of his brother. Fury continued talking before the Asgardian could take it the wrong way:

"So what do you know about them?"

Thor looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I do not know as much as you might hope," he admitted, "Us Asgardians usually just leave the Guardians be. They take care of their own duties. Their work is something we have nothing to do with."

"What duties?" Fury asked, even though he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew what the God of Thunder's answer would be.

"They..." Thor suddenly froze, "What was that?"

Fury frowned. He hadn't heard or seen anything.

"What?"

He got his answer when a bulletproof window near the ceiling shattered without any discernible reason. Thor dropped immediately into a fighting stance, his hammer in his hand. Fury drew his gun.

"We're under attack!" Thor exclaimed.

* * *

Jack Frost was brought out of his near-sleep when the first window shattered. He jumped to his feet and instantly felt the sense of foreboding that was usually brought by the presence of a certain shadow under the bed. He looked up and saw a shade with twisted limbs sliding across the ceiling and into the air vents. He felt a strange coldness in his chest. It wasn't the nice, crisp kind of cold he was always surrounded with.

Pitch Black was here. These people were under attack.

"Okay, that's it," Jack said out loud, "Enough playing nice. I'm getting out of here."

The agent guarding him was busy talking into his microphone, but he was alerted back to his duties when the first frozen snowball hit the cell's wall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, kid?" the agent demanded, putting a hand on his gun and taking a step towards the floor-heating button.

Jack formed another snowball in his hand. Creating snow felt unnaturally difficult without his staff. It was as if winter didn't want to come to him any more. Or actually, it was more like it did want to, but couldn't find a proper way. Jack breathed on the snowball, freezing it all the way through, and chucked it with force that put most professional baseball players to shame. It hit precisely the same spot where he had thrown the previous one.

"I'm getting out of here," he said almost nonchalantly to the agent, "If you want to help me, you could just open this thing and let me go."

His third snowball caused the glass to crack.

"If you do that you'll avoid some serious property damage. I'm getting out either way."

The agent shook his head.

"Like hell you are!"

He pushed the heating button. Jack could hear some of the circuits beneath his feet popping. A few days in close proximity with the bringer of winter who had been channelling his powers downwards had frozen the floor from underneath. The system was still mostly operational, though, and Jack could feel the heat pushing through the layer of ice he had painstakingly created while lying on the floor. He threw two more snowballs in quick succession, trying to keep his feet moving when the floor heated to uncomfortable levels.

The agent drew his gun. Jack touched the cracks he had made in the wall and let spikes of ice grow into them, weakening the spot further.

"Trust me, I'm doing this to help you," he assured, although he was sure the agent didn't believe him.

The floor was burning the soles of his feet now. He staggered backwards until his back hit the wall. He was out of time. The ice melting under the floor made more circuits pop and sparks flashed between the seams of the tiles. The agent on the other side aimed his gun at Jack, looking a bit lost on what was going on. Jack formed one more snowball, doing his best to ignore the pain in his feet or the air that was quickly heating up to unbearable levels. The snowball hit the cracked spot, and as it did, Jack was already sprinting towards the glass. He took a deep breath and jumped, shielding his face and ramming into the wall.

Whether it was the abrupt changes in the temperature, the frozen projectiles, the short-circuiting machinery or the teenager-shaped battering ram that finally did it, but S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reinforced glass cell wall gave in. Jack flopped onto the floor in the middle of a rain of stinging shards. He felt one of the larger shards under his forearm, the impact and his own weight pushing it through the skin. He gasped in pain but managed to roll back to his feet. A few shards rained down from his body, some clinging to his hair and clothes. A gun clicked next to his ear.

"Don't move," the agent said warningly, pressing the barrel almost painfully against Jack's forehead.

"Sorry," Jack said quietly, "But I really, really have to."

His uninjured hand moved in a flash, lightly touching the gun and freezing it solid. The agent yelped in surprise and pain; he would be suffering from mild frostbite for some time. Jack aimed a quick punch at the man's head and watched him stumble back. Before the agent got his bearings back, Jack had already left the room and was running in the corridors, wiping shards of glass from his person as he went. A couple of agents dashed towards him from around a corner, and Jack could barely react before they collided with him. Or more accurately, ran right through him. Jack gasped at the emptiness that filled him, doubling over and staggering to hide in the nearest alcove. So he had been right: not everyone in the facility even believed in him. Fury had probably wanted to keep him secret from everyone who wasn't directly concerned with the matter.

He could hear the sounds of battle coming through the nearest broken window. The attack seemed to be mostly outside at the moment. That meant Jack might have time to find his staff – if it really was in the building – and get into fighting condition.

He looked at the shard embedded into his arm. It had lodged itself pretty deep, almost scraping the bone. Lazy droplets of dark blood seeped into the sleeve of his hoodie. Jack sighed and gripped the shard.

"Ow, ow, ow," he gritted his teeth and yanked the shard out in one painful movement. He suppressed a whimper of pain and pressed his good hand over the wound. It would heal soon enough, he knew. He could already feel the muscle and skin starting to knit back together now that the foreign object was out. He slipped out of the alcove and into the maze of corridors.

* * *

**Author's Note: Get your trumpets and play some fanfare because we have just entered TOTAL CHAOS! No, really. This is one of the main reasons why I wanted to write this: to have the Guardians and the Avengers actually fight, and it finally begins. Now the question is, who will win? Will there be winners at all? Will I be able to keep this mess together and keep track of who's fighting who and actually bring this to a coherent conclusion? The answers to these questions are all varying degrees of "I don't know!" I try to keep the POVs from jumping so much in the future chapters, as in each following fight-chapter will have one "main POV" and only occasionally cut to other stuff.**

**Yay I gave an estimated time for an update and actually managed to make it! Considering we had a day off from school it wasn't that hard but still... I don't think I want to give times for my updates anymore. It makes me nervous. I get really upset if I can't keep my promises.**

**Agent Cunningham is probably my first named OC in this fic. He's not going to do much, though. He's just there to drive things. I gave him a name so I didn't have to keep calling him "the driver" all the time.**

**Also, I'm rather sure reinforced glass isn't that easy to break, but we can just shrug that off by remembering that Jack is magic.**

**You guys are still so very supportive! Now I really hope I manage to keep this story together and as good as I can. For you. Smiley face!**


	9. The Black Widow and the Fairy

**9. The Black Widow and the Fairy**

Clint Barton was one of the first in the base to realize something was wrong. He was not too far away from the meeting room when something hit the window above him. His hand automatically went for the bow at his back, and he hurried towards the nearest exit. Whatever had hit the window was still outside. He took a flight of metal stairs to a locked side door and opened in, breathing in surprisingly stuffy air. He looked to the side and saw another agent looking around warily, a gun in his hand.

"What happened?" Clint asked.

The agent looked at him, some sort of relief in his eyes.

"Barton? I don't know what's going on. Something just hit the window."

"I heard," Clint said simply, now fitting an arrow to his bowstring and scanning his surroundings. Something rammed into a window again, and Clint was quick to start looking for the source.

"I can't see anything," Clint heard the other say, "What the hell's going on?"

Clint didn't have an answer to that. But he had a feeling that what was going on was nothing good. Something was attacking them, breaking windows and judging by an agent who was already lying groaning on the ground, assaulting people as well. And no matter where Clint looked, there was nothing there. He didn't like it. He was used to hitting his mark with ease. But now there was barely any indication of where his mark _could _be. He drew his bow, aiming at empty air, but didn't fire. There was nothing to fire at.

He heard one more window breaking. It was very likely this was what Fury had been afraid of. That this mostly invisible group of Guardians had finally decided to retrieve the ice kid. Clint narrowed his eyes.

"Right," he said under his breath, "I know you're around here somewhere."

The agent beside him was breathing heavily, almost in panic.

"What's wrong?" Clint asked without lowering his bow or even looking at the agent.

"I don't know," the other replied quietly, "I just don't like this at all. I don't get it. I'm usually not this nervous about anything."

"Just try to hang in there," Clint said. This was not the time for a longer chat.

His eyes roamed around the area again and finally fixed on a huge, grey rabbit that hopped from between the trees. Clint aimed his arrow at it, fighting the surprise and denial that tried to surface in his mind. The rabbit was definitely there, even on second glance. And it was definitely huge, probably even taller than Clint. The rabbit was holding a boomerang and it threw it as soon as it got into Clint's sight. From his position Clint didn't see where it actually aimed the thing at, but he took it as a sign the thing was definitely not friendly. He let his arrow fly.

* * *

Showing no indication she knew something was with her, Natasha gripped her gun and looked around. Her eyes scanned the ground, then moved up to the bright green foliage. A bird fluttered by, and Natasha aimed her gun at it out of instinct. The bird chirped in panic and disappeared into the green. Natasha didn't lower her gun. She stepped sideways away from the plane, positioning herself so that her back was against a tree. She could hear more birds chirping above her. But there was also something else, something bigger. Nearby, Natasha could hear the flutter of wings far too large for a bird. She pointed her gun towards the sound.

"There is no need for that," a feminine voice spoke from the midst of the trees.

There was a shape between the tree trunks, and it flitted away when Natasha aimed at it.

"I am not here to fight," the voice spoke, a bit closer this time, "I am here to talk."

"Did you do this?" Natasha nodded towards the jet and the unconscious pilot inside it.

"He will be fine, I assure you," the figure said, "I apologize about that. I wanted to talk to you in private."

"Who are you?" Natasha demanded.

The shape emerged from the midst of the trees. It was colourful, birdlike. Except it had the face of a woman. Long, pink eyelashes framed large, purple eyes. Blue, teal, and yellow feathers grew from the top of her head like a crown. More feathers covered her small body, and behind her fluttered several pairs of transparent, insect-like wings. Natasha had never seen anything like it before.

"I am Toothiana," the bird-woman said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Natasha Romanoff."

Natasha's eyes narrowed. She pointed her gun right between the bird-woman's eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked. _And how do you know who I am?_ she added mentally.

"I told you, I want to talk," the bird-woman, Toothiana, let her small feet touch the ground and she raised her hands as a sign of peace, "There has been some... misunderstandings between our group and yours. You have stayed out of it so far, but now you were on your way right into it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Natasha said, even though it wasn't quite true.

She might as well get some information out of this strange woman while she was at it. The woman took a few slow steps towards Natasha, seemingly not fazed by the gun pointed right at her. She stopped a good distance away, but was close enough for Natasha to realize that the woman was very short, around the size of an average twelve-year-old.

"You do know about us, Ms. Romanoff," Toothiana said, "Otherwise we wouldn't be talking right now. Will you put your weapon down? I'd rather talk without having that pointed at me."

Natasha didn't lower her gun. The bird-woman sighed.

"Suit yourself. I came here to ask you to stay out of this fight. If you wish to contact your director, I hope it would be just to tell him to let his hostage go."

"Hostage?" Natasha repeated.

"Your people kidnapped one of us," there was a tinge of anger in Toothiana's voice, "We don't want any trouble with you, but we do want him back."

The woman seemed very eager to spill everything about the situation. That made things easier.

"I doubt 'our people' would kidnap anyone without a reason," Natasha said.

"People tend to be afraid of things they don't know," Toothiana said, "But you do know us."

The bird-woman's wings, which had been folded behind her back like a royal cape, fluttered back to life and she rose a foot into the air. Natasha's Glock followed her every move.

"We are the Guardians," Toothiana explained, "The Guardians of Childhood. Our job is to protect children and make sure their lives are filled with happiness. You might know us by different names. I am usually known as the Tooth Fairy."

That almost made Natasha lower her gun, if just out of the sheer ridiculousness of the statement. Almost. Toothiana smiled.

"So you do realize, if your people plan to actually attack us, that would do a great disservice to the children all around the world."

Natasha let out a very clipped laugh.

"That is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard."

Toothiana cocked her head.  
"But it's true. I am the Guardian of Memories. The children's teeth contain all the dearest memories of their childhood. I keep them safe until it's time to return them."

She dug her hand into a pouch that hung from a belt at her waist and retrieved something golden and cylindrical from it. Natasha clicked the safety off of her gun, just in case. But the self-proclaimed Tooth Fairy just held up what looked like a decorative box.

"I even have yours right here," she said.

It had to be some kind of trick to distract Natasha. And a bizarre one at that. Did this bird-woman think she could somehow faze her with the talk of nostalgia and childhood fantasies? Natasha had spent her life in training for what she did now. There was _nothing_ magical about her childhood.

"Sorry, fairy," Natasha said coldly, "But my childhood was over very quickly."

Toothiana nodded, a sad smile on her face.  
"So was mine. That doesn't mean I want to forget all about it."

The fairy pressed a delicate hand onto the lid of the box.

* * *

Agent Maria Hill had pulled her gun the moment the commotion started outside. Fury had instructed her to return to their main surveillance room to get a more comprehensive look on the whole situation. The room wasn't far, but it took Maria a while to reach it, due to the agents hurrying outside to defend the base pushing past her at every turn. She manoeuvred her way through the corridors, again having to stop to to let through an agent that rushed past her.

"Excuse me! Coming through!"

Maria looked to the side when the unfamiliar, young voice echoed in the corridor next to her. The pale teenager they had been holding in custody almost hit the wall at a turn in a wild run and then yelped when an agent ran right _through _him as if he wasn't really there at all.

"Okay, a bit too literal!" the boy huffed and then his eyes fell on Maria.

Maria automatically pointed her gun. The boy – Frost – skidded to a halt and raised his hands defensively.

"I take it you see me," he said flatly, "Don't shoot. Right now, I'm definitely on your side."

Maria took in Frost's appearance, the blood on his arm and the glass shards in his hair. He definitely hadn't been just let out peacefully. When Maria made no move to lower her weapon, Frost sighed.

"I get it. I don't look too friendly right now."

Then the boy jumped faster than Maria could follow. She felt a touch of icy hands on her shoulders when the boy cartwheeled over her as if she was a gymnast's pommel horse. Maria spun around, but the boy had already landed and disappeared behind the corner. Maria immediately opened a microphone link to Fury.

"Fury, Frost has escaped from his cell," she said to the mike and made a move to follow the kid as she spoke.

She was stopped by a strong hand on her shoulder.

"I will go after him," a deep voice spoke next to her.

Maria looked up and saw the solemn face of the God of Thunder looking back. She nodded slowly.

"Thor is going after him," she said to Fury, "I'll get into the surveillance room."

"Good," Fury said, "I just got a call from Cunningham. He and Banner are stranded because of some freak attack. I'm sending Stark to pick Banner up."

Maria nodded even though she knew Fury couldn't see her and switched the mike off for the moment. She headed towards the surveillance room and hoped things weren't really as close to a complete chaos as it looked from where she was.

* * *

Natasha's hands trembled. She gripped the Glock tighter and struggled to return her focus on the bird-creature in front of her. The fairy hadn't moved from her spot. Her hand hovered above the box she held, and on her face there was a sympathetic smile. Natasha took a threatening step forward.

"What did you do?" she hissed.

"I showed you a memory of yours," Toothiana replied calmly, "Because I need you to understand what we do."

"That wasn't a memory," Natasha growled, hoping she could have sounded more sure about herself.

She briefly considered shooting the damn woman right where she hovered, but she knew S.H.I.E.L.D. still wanted more information on these Guardians. Fury had said that much in his short phone calls. He had also warned Natasha about the Guardians having yet mostly unknown powers. Well, now Natasha definitely knew more about this threat S.H.I.E.L.D. had been struggling with for some time. Apparently this bird-woman could create illusions. She called them memories, but Natasha couldn't really remember anything from before her training had started. The happy little girl she had been in that memory couldn't possibly be the real her. The faces she had seen couldn't belong to anyone she might have cared about before her training wiped all of that away. It just couldn't.

But it started again. She saw a different vision this time. She was playing outside with someone she couldn't recognize but whom she should have cared about. She was so, so young. So young she could barely understand the basics of how the world worked. Maybe that was why she was so happy then. The vision faded and Natasha blinked reality back on. She gasped and her legs felt weak for a second before she got a grip on herself. That couldn't have been her. Or maybe she didn't want it to be her.

"Stop!" she snapped at the fairy, "Put that box down, now!"

"Do you understand now?" the fairy asked.

"No," Natasha said, "I don't understand what you're playing. But it's not working."

The fairy huffed.

"Oh, you people are impossible!"

Natasha spared a brief glance at the jet now that the fairy was distracted by her own annoyance. The pilot was coming around. She had to hope the man was in any condition to fly. Toothiana followed her gaze and flitted forward.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Romanoff," she said and brought her hand again to the golden box, "I can't let you leave just yet."

Natasha could see colourful presents that couldn't be hers, and heard laughter that was so innocent it felt alien in her ears. Someone held her in strong arms, promising her she would be safe. She stumbled out of the memory with muddled thoughts and fired her gun five times before she could even see straight. The bird-woman shouted in pain, the bullets tearing apart her wings and knocking her backwards before she slumped onto the ground. Natasha darted towards the downed fairy, but didn't get far before something sharp struck her in the temple. She swatted away the small bird that had hit her, but more of them soon joined in, their beaks stinging her face and arms. Natasha ducked and managed to hit another one, but suddenly she felt her gun being yanked away from her hands.

"Girls! Stop! I'm fine now!"

It was the fairy, and as soon as her commanding voice rang out in the forest the birds left Natasha alone, zipping into some sort of military formation around Toothiana. The fairy knelt on the ground, clutching her shoulder mostly because she couldn't reach her now tattered wings. Natasha looked at the birds, noticing only now they were actually fairies as well. Toothiana struggled to stand, her wings twitching uselessly behind her. Her purple eyes, previously gentle, had hardened considerably. She slipped the box back into her pouch. Two of the fairies had Natasha's pistol, and they dropped it onto Toothiana's outstretched hand. The fairy slid the clip out of the gun with uncertain movements that showed she had never held a firearm before and only had a vague idea of how they worked.

"I told you I don't want a fight," she said quietly, "But if you really insist, then fine."

The fairy's small hands gripped the gun, and she snapped the weapon in half in one swift motion. Natasha could only stare for the briefest moment before her training kicked in. She rolled backwards, pulling out another Glock that she had kept hidden so far. Toothiana ran at her, a bit off-balance thanks to the ruined wings, and jumped to the side when Natasha fired. The smaller fairies charged as well, and Natasha shot one down before rolling again to avoid the volley of beaks.

Toothiana gasped as one of her miniature versions fell. The larger fairy moved quicker than Natasha had expected, and a small hand caught Natasha's weapon-hand into a vice-like grip. Toothiana's other hand found Natasha's elbow and suddenly Natasha was flying, flung to the ground by a fairy the size of an elementary school kid. Natasha's gun bounced into the undergrowth when Natasha jumped into a crouched position. In a flash she turned and aimed a roundhouse kick at the side of the fairy's head. Natasha's booted foot struck Toothiana with enough force to pop eardrums, if the bird-woman even had ears where humans had them. Toothiana's head snapped to the side and she rolled on the grass, hopping to her feet with barely any indication of having just been kicked.

Natasha dodged a small fairy and swatted her aside. She needed to focus on taking down the leader. She lunged at Toothiana, barely ducking under the fairy's fast punch and hit the fairy in the solar plexus with her elbow. Toothiana gasped and wheezed, almost doubling over but managing to stay in the fight. Natasha didn't wait for the fairy to fully recover, but quickly hit her boot to the fairy's knee and aimed a fist at the fairy's face. Toothiana took the kick, but her small hand moved up to grasp Natasha's fist before it hit its mark. Normally, trying to block a larger opponent with brute force was idiocy. But in this case, the small fairy really had more than enough brute force to pull it off. It didn't make any sense.

Toothiana tightened her grip on Natasha's hand, almost to the point of it being painful. Natasha twisted her hand, getting closer to her opponent and spinning around to force the fairy to let go. Toothiana did so, but suddenly jumped over Natasha's head. Natasha barely had time to see the fist coming before it hit her in the temple. The hit was hard; it rattled Natasha's skull and sent her head back so quickly that her neck protested in pain. Natasha continued the movement backwards and planted her hands to the ground, flipping back into a low crouch. Her boot hit the still intact Glock that had fallen from her hand. She wrapped her fingers around the gun and lifted it, aiming quickly and firing.

A tiny fairy moved into the bullet's path, and Toothiana screamed in distress. The fairy's previously gentle face twisted again in rage, and she leaped at Natasha. This time the tiny fairies stayed out of it, and Natasha's bullet hit the fairy in the right shoulder. Toothiana didn't even seem to feel the hit, and she swung her fist at Natasha's head again. Natasha ducked and dug her knee between the fairy's ribs. The fairy hit the ground and her miniature helpers gathered around her while letting out chirps of alarm. The box the fairy had used for her illusions had fallen from the pouch at the fairy's waist. Natasha saw the golden cylinder rolling lazily down a gentle slope and stopping near her feet. She picked it up and studied it warily while still keeping her gun pointed at the fairy who now lay gasping on the ground, struggling to get up.

The box was just that: a box. Except that boxes didn't usually call for Natasha when they were close to her. She didn't know what it was about it, but the unfamiliar container in her hand felt like it belonged to her. It must have been another trick. And Natasha wasn't going to let a bird-woman and a box mess with her mind.

"You can open it if you want," the fairy said in a weak voice, "They are yours. I'm not denying memories even from someone who hurts my fairies, no matter how much I want to."

Natasha cast the fairy a murderous look. The bird-woman had got all the way to her knees. Her feathers were ruffled and her wings swayed sadly in the wind. She was holding a small ball of feathers in her hand. It was one of the mini-fairies Natasha had downed, and Toothiana stroked the tiny being's feathers with the expression of pure motherly worry on her face. Natasha brushed her thumb over the decorated lid of the box. She tilted the box in her hand and saw a picture of a smiling girl at the base. For the briefest moment she was actually curious about what the box held. And that brief moment was enough to send her into a vision again.

It lasted for a long time, so long that Natasha knew the fairy would have more than enough time to eliminate her. But as the happy images shifted to much more familiar ones, Natasha forgot all about it for the moment. She remembered her training. She remembered how all the useless childhood innocence had been taken away and replaced with something different. Something deadly and efficient. She remembered how the girl that was her but whom she didn't recognize was turned into a weapon.

When it was over, Natasha found herself back in the forest in Thailand. At some point she had fallen to her knees, and when her sight returned she saw the gentle face of the Tooth Fairy next to her. The tiny fairy in her hands was sitting up now, with barely a scratch on her from taking a bullet almost the size of her.

Natasha pursed her lips, her hand still clutching her gun.

"You could have killed me," she stated.

Toothiana shook her head.

"I would never do that," she said, "I just wanted to make you understand."

Natasha looked at the box in her hand. What she had seen had really been her memories. It wasn't a trick after all. She didn't know how she knew it, but she just did. She let the box fall from her hand and Toothiana picked it up, carefully wiping some dirt from it before putting it back into her pouch.

"You should know," Natasha said quietly, "That the girl in that box is dead."

"I understand," Toothiana said, "I'm sorry."

They both sat there for a while in that moment of strange kinship, catching their breath and nursing their wounds. Then Natasha's cell phone rang just around the same time when one more miniature fairy appeared on the scene. When Natasha answered the call and listened to Fury telling her to get a move on because something was attacking the HQ, she had a feeling the frantic chirps of the newcomer fairy meant something along the same lines.

Toothiana was on her feet as soon as the mini-fairy had finished.

"Your people are in danger," she said, looking at Natasha.

Natasha put her phone away, nodding gravely.

"I just have to assume it's not your people who are attacking us."

"No," Toothiana assured her, "It's someone our people fight against too. Girls?"

The mini-fairies gathered around her and she fished out a glass orb the size of Natasha's fist from her pouch. Toothiana looked again at Natasha, smiling a little.

"If you want to help, I can give you a ride. It's faster than your plane. You might want to just say a few words to your pilot about it first, I guess."

Natasha glanced at the jet. The pilot was trying to call someone from the cockpit. The poor man had had a rough day.

"Are you sure you can fight?" she asked the fairy, "You're injured."

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Toothiana chirped, "I heal very fast. I should be able to fly by the time we get there."

True enough, the bullet holes in the fairy's wings were considerably smaller already. Even as Natasha watched, the holes were sealing up, new transparent tissue appearing as if out of nowhere. The fairy's shoulder already showed no signs of being shot at just moments ago. Natasha nodded slowly.

"I suppose my best bet is trusting you," she finally said, "For now."

* * *

**Author's Note: So... much... Swedish homework... Well, I still managed to do the last edits to this one! I was waiting anxiously for writing this chapter and I think it turned out pretty nicely... Now if someone wants to explain Black Widow's backstory and point out it contradicts the extremely vague memories in this somehow, then... Well, that sucks for me. I did do some research but seeing how Natasha's original comic backstory has her being born in 1928 and had her parents die in bombings or something I figured it's not exactly the backstory the films went with considering the film's timeline. I suppose it doesn't matter that much either. What I gathered was that she was trained from a very young age and that's what matters.**

**Also, Toothiana's backstory which wasn't really mentioned but which she referred to when saying her childhood was over fast is from the books.**

**Hey, managed to throw in some Clint in there. A lot of people seem to like him. Well, he does have a bow. That's always a plus. And there's action! I'm still not sure if I suck at writing action or not. Too bad seeing how the next few chapters will be very action-heavy... these multiple fights are practically the climax of the fic, after all.**

**Thank you again so much for the kind reviews and I hope you keep enjoying this mess of words in the future as well! :)**


	10. Collisions

**The cover art is drawn by me.**

* * *

**10. Collisions**

The Sandman flew into the woods, moulding his dreamsand into a stingray, which he then used as a steed. The rather harmless-looking man who had ran after Sandy was changing into something much less harmless. Even as the man ran his body morphed, his clothes tearing and his muscles twitching oddly. Sandy had never seen this man in action. He had only heard of Bruce Banner and the freak accident that had created the green monster the man could turn into. The man roared, his transformation complete, and ploughed through a thicket of trees Sandy had just passed by. Sandy heard crashes behind him and regretted the needless destruction of his surroundings. But he needed to get this man away from the car and its driver.

Sandy knew things hadn't gone according to plan. He had sensed Nightmares and what was worse, Fearlings in the direction of the base North and Bunnymund had gone to. Sandy was sure it would lead to a fight, and these agents would probably not discriminate between invisible shadows and possibly visible strangers that seemed to attack at the same time. Sandy had a sneaking suspicion this was what Pitch was counting on. The Guardians definitely didn't need an enraged Hulk into that mix as well.

He had to press against the sandy surface of the stingray when an entire tree trunk was flung at him. It sailed harmlessly over his head, crashing into another tree with enough force to break off most of the tree's branches. Sandy swerved sharply to the left and quickly conjured up a dream bird that slammed itself against the green monster's face. It would have put a normal person to sleep, but it seemed this green beast was running so high on adrenaline that it did nothing to him. Banner merely roared in irritation and quickened his already impressive running speed, taking huge leaps and stretching out his massive arms to make a grab at the fleeing Sandy.

Sandy steered the stingray upwards, forming a whip out of sand and snapping it at the Hulk's fingers. It gave him enough of a distraction to dive between two thick trees and reach a clearing he had been going for. He stopped in mid-air, letting the stingray melt into golden sparks and turned to face the direction he had just come from. He didn't need to wait for long before the green monster crashed through the two large trees like they were made of wet paper and lunged right away at his real target. Sandy moved quickly out of the way, snapping his whip to keep the beast at bay. He formed another strand of dreamsand to his yet free hand, feeling like a lion tamer facing an exceptionally strange lion. And he had a feeling this beast wouldn't be easy to tame. Not by a stranger like Sandy, at least. And especially since this beast certainly didn't want to be tamed right now. Sandy knew the hulking man that swinging huge arms at him wasn't nearly as out of control as the man's behaviour would suggest. Sandy could see in Banner's fierce eyes that the man knew what he was doing. He was just being very unrestrained about it.

The Hulk tore a tree off the ground again and chucked it right at Sandy with the force of a catapult. Sandy ducked under it and then rose higher out of the man's reach, pelting the man with small dreams that should have at least slowed him down. Banner wiped his face angrily and actually punched a golden sand-horse that charged at him. Sandy's creations fell apart, turning back into sand. Banner stopped to blink, and Sandy had a feeling he might be able to bring the man down after all. He would just need _a lot_ of dreamsand. Once the man was calmer, they might be able to talk. Maybe.

* * *

Jack raced through the corridors, occasionally running through and agent and fighting against the urge to gasp in discomfort whenever he did so. He was following the small tags above the doors that seemed to indicate he was getting close to some sort of research area. If these people really had his staff, they most likely wanted to study it. Or they had stored it somewhere he couldn't get to. He hoped that was not the case. He needed to find it fast if he wanted to have a chance at fighting Pitch's minions that were attacking the place.

He burst into a room with laboratory equipment on numerous desks. After taking a good look around the place and seeing his beloved shepherd's crook wasn't there he turned on his heel and continued onwards, checking the rest of the rooms as he went. After he had run into that female agent no one had tried to stop him. Most of the people were probably outside by now or in surveillance rooms trying to find the source of the attacks with their devices. Jack wasn't sure at the moment if it had been a bad idea not to tell these people about Pitch. At least then they would have had an idea of what to expect. Even without being seen or tangible to these people, Pitch would surely find ways to harm them. But Jack hadn't really imagined Pitch being interested in something like this. At least not enough to outright attack them.

Now that he thought about it, why hadn't he imagined that?

Jack arrived at a large open space that housed cars and other vehicles. It was a dead end for him. The only other doors were huge and seemed be remote-controlled. So Jack had just gone through the entire research area and hadn't found his staff. That wasn't good. He needed a new plan. He turned back towards the door but froze when he felt the ominous presence of Nightmares behind him. He spun back around and saw back sand and shadows oozing from underneath the huge metal doors that led outside. The black substance solidified into a fierce warhorse and three small, shrivelled humanoid shapes Jack had only seen once before. A Nightmare and Fearlings. Just his luck.

The Nightmare whinnied in a distorted voice and leaped. Jack dropped down flat onto his stomach and rolled out of the way of demonic hooves. Jack was back up before the horse had time to turn and he jumped, landing onto the roof of the nearest car. The Fearlings scrambled up along the car doors, leaving deep claw-marks into the metal. S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't like that. Whatever insurance they might have most likely didn't cover damage done by supernatural fear-monsters. Jack aimed a quick kick at the first Fearling that got up onto the roof and sent it flying back down onto the concrete floor. The next one lunged at him right away, and Jack jumped over it, the force of the jump carrying him all the way to the next car roof. Temporarily out of his enemies' reach he concentrated, forming a snowball into his other hand and an ice spike into the other.

"Okay," he said and even managed his usual grin despite knowing the odds were against him, "You want to play?"

Jack threw the snowball at a Fearling and watched the monster smack against the windshield of a car. He wasted no time going after it, jumping forward and stabbing the ice spike right through the monster's inky stomach. The Fearling screamed, fading away into tatters of shadow. One down. Three to go. Those victorious thoughts were sadly silenced when Jack felt sharp claws at his back. He was slammed against the car, his face pressing against the windshield that was now cracked from being struck with an icicle. Jack elbowed the Fearling at his back, wildly shaking it off and scrambling away from it and trying to catch his breath. His back burned and his head spun. He was definitely not in a good fighting condition.

Jack involuntarily let out a yelp when the Nightmare's hoof stomped on his shoulder. The horse let out another unnatural whinny that turned into a strange sandy garble when something large and metallic smashed it into pieces. Jack blinked and watched as whatever had destroyed the Nightmare hit the wall with enough force to dent it and then returned like a boomerang, swiping a Fearling out of existence on its way.

"Are you okay?" a thunderous voice boomed at Jack's left, and Jack turned to look at his rescuer.

The man was wearing Norse armour and caught the flying hammer in his hand like it barely weighed anything. Long blonde hair framed an ageless face with bright eyes. Jack stared at the man in disbelief. He had to admit he definitely hadn't expected to see the God of Thunder here.

"Old man Thor?" Jack said uncertainly, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Thor seemed to only now realize who Jack was, and suddenly the man looked just as surprised as Jack was feeling at the moment.

"Jokul Frosti?" Thor breathed, using the old Scandinavian version of Jack's name out of habit, "So they really _did _pick you as a Guardian!"

The last remaining Fearling decided to take that moment of distraction and use it to attack Thor. It moved in a flash, its clawed hands extended and the malformed mouth twisted into a battle screech. Jack was closer to it, though, and he moved almost without thinking. He tackled the creature before its jump could reach the God of Thunder. The monster's claws sunk into Jack's shoulders, but Jack ignored it and pressed the creature against the floor with his elbow, slamming his other hand on the screaming face. The Fearling froze in mid-scream, ice spreading from Jack's hand throughout the corrupted body, immobilizing the joints and covering the shadow with frost. Jack got back to his feet, dragging the now stiff Fearling up with him and flung the monster against the wall. The creature shattered, and Jack was too tired and too peeved to feel much sympathy for the poor thing.

Thor raised a brow and lifted his hammer to rest on his broad shoulder.

"Impressive," he stated.

Jack smiled wearily.

"Thanks. And thanks for helping me. But I'd still want to know what you're doing here."

"I was called here to assist in a problem with your people, Jokul. Now could you explain what is happening here?"

Jack crossed his arms. He didn't have much of an opinion on Thor. They had only met a couple of times. But the man had just helped him. That definitely granted him some bonus points.

"It's Pitch," Jack said, "You know, the Nightmare King."

Thor frowned.

"What about your companions? I saw some of them outside, fighting the men here. And I heard Sanderson just attacked Mr. Banner not too far away from here."

Jack's eyes widened. The Guardians were here too? He really should have got out before things got this much out of hand.

"I'm pretty sure the Guardians are just here to get me back and fight Pitch," he said, "If you want to help, you could maybe take me to them? And help me find my staff?"

Thor looked a bit conflicted about the situation. He lowered his hammer back to his side.

"I do not know. I have no idea where your weapon is. It is chaos out there and I cannot trust you in the middle of it."

"What?" Jack snapped, "Pitch is out there! It's the Guardians' job to fight him! I'm not going to just stand around doing nothing!"

"You are injured. And if you go, these men will try to take you down as well," Thor said evenly, "I heard them. They do not seem to think highly of you."

Jack laughed nervously.

"Yeah. I guess I could work on my first impressions."

"I think everyone in Asgard would agree with that."

Jack rolled his eyes. Thor didn't have to bring _that _up every time they met.

"C'mon, old man," Jack looked at the man with the best puppy dog look he could muster, "I _have _to get out of here! If I stay it'll just get worse. Now these people have two immortal groups to deal with, and the Guardians won't quit until they get me out."

He was rather sure that Thor was pretty much immune to puppy dog eyes, but what the God of Thunder wasn't immune to was reality. Even Thor must see that siding with the Guardians in a situation involving a Fearling-army was the best way to go.

"Perhaps," Thor said slowly, "I could indeed accompany you, young Frosti. Do you have any idea where your staff might be located?"

Jack almost wanted to jump in joy.

"_Finally _there's someone with some common sense in this place!"

* * *

It was madness. Total chaos. They had been supposed to just go in, maybe cause a distraction and then get North to talk to Fury. But now Pitch had ruined it all and Bunnymund was left fighting tooth and nail with both shadows and agents. Bunnymund had hopped all across the battlefield with blinding speed, throwing his boomerangs and egg bombs so many times his arms almost ached. There were two arrows lodged into his shoulder, courtesy of that bow-wielding agent with a killer shot. He didn't have time to pull them out. There were Nightmares and Fearlings everywhere, and some of the agents seemed to have lost their composure over invisible attackers. Because Bunnymund had quickly come to the conclusion that these people didn't see Pitch's minions. At least not yet. They might soon if the shadows continued their little spree of vandalism. Bunnymund almost hoped that would happen now. At least then the agents could focus on something else rather than targeting only him. And seeing what they were fighting would probably calm the agents down a bit as well.

The agent with the bow seemed to be the greatest threat at the moment. Bunnymund could recognize the man as one of the Avengers -group he was supposed to be distracting. The metal man and the overly patriotically dressed man were nowhere in sight. Bunnymund didn't know if they were still indoors. He hoped North could deal with that. Bunnymund wouldn't be able to get inside to aid his friend any time soon.

Bunnymund leaped over an arrow that had been meant to kill and tossed an egg bomb to conceal him while he focused on a practically nasty Fearling that seemingly tried to melt through cracks in the concrete wall to get into the building. Bunny threw his boomerang, and it tore through the creature and caused it to shrivel into shreds of darkness. Another arrow fizzled over Bunnymund's head, nicking his ear. Bunnymund cursed and caught his boomerang as it returned.

"Oi! Gimme a break!" he shouted at the bowman who was now considerably closer than a moment ago.

The agent seemed to be quite okay with the fact that there was a seven-foot-tall, talking rabbit in front of him and fired an arrow that hit the wall behind Bunnymund and exploded. Bunnymund felt the explosion burning his fur and the shockwave sent him tumbling forward to the ground. He caught himself at the last second, straightening back up and throwing a boomerang at the bowman's face. The agent dodged it, already fitting yet another arrow to the string of his bow.

Bunnymund caught his boomerang again and threw himself to the side with rabbit-like agility when the man fired. He rolled on the ground, ignoring the burning of the arrows still in his shoulder and tossed another exploding egg. He didn't have time to see if he had actually hit anything, because then his concentration was occupied by a nightmare that very nearly trampled him.

"Okay, a bit too much everything," he grumbled to himself as he kicked the Nightmare out of the way and jumped to his hind paws with the same momentum.

He looked for the bowman on the battlefield and saw the man aiming at him again. He also saw a large Fearling lunging through the air to get at the man from behind.

"GET DOWN!" Bunnymund roared instinctively, throwing his boomerang straight at the attacking shadow beast. His priority was to keep the people safe, even if said people were trying to stick him full of arrows and lead. The agent looked confused, but still ducked to avoid Bunnymund's boomerang. The weapon hit the Fearling and sliced it in two. The bowman looked over his shoulder briefly, and when his eyes widened Bunnymund could tell the man saw the shadowy attackers too now.

"That's right!" Bunnymund shouted, "They're the real threat here right now! Ya can fight'em if ya just keep calm!"

The bowman quickly fired to the side, the arrow sinking into an approaching Fearling's throat. The creature withered away. Bunnymund's spirits lifted at that just a bit. Maybe there was some hope to this after all. He should know; he was the Guardian of it.

* * *

Golden man was playing games with him. He didn't like it. Golden man had whips that surprisingly _hurt_. And golden man could somehow make him feel sluggish. Sand that golden man wielded clouded vision, drained energy. But he didn't want to rest. He needed to smash golden man that looked infuriatingly calm even in fight.

He got yet more sand into his eyes. It didn't sting like it should have. But it broke through the rage he wanted to use against golden man. It caused flashes of pleasant images that he quickly ignored and focused just on golden man. Golden man was target. Who golden man was, it didn't matter. Golden man had attacked and now he would attack back.

He kept telling himself that in his clearer moments because if he stopped, he would realize how badly he just wanted to rest. He would realize how _calm _golden man actually made him feel.

* * *

The green man let out yet another murderous growl as he swiped a massive arm at Sandy. The hit almost landed. Almost. Sandy jumped over it and wrapped his whip around Banner's wrist. He tugged the whip sharply, and instead of flinging the green beast into the bushes, it was Sandy who was flung onto the green man's shoulders. Just as Sandy had hoped. A huge fist tried to punch Sandy off, but Sandy stepped aside, jumping over the man's head and onto another overly muscled shoulder. He sprinkled dreamsand over the man's face, watching wild eyes dull in fatigue for a second before it was gone again. How fascinating.

Banner's fist caught Sandy on the shoulder, and Sandy felt the hit that was something akin to colliding with a brick wall. He slipped off from the green shoulder, but stayed airborne and countered Banner's next punch with a flick of his whip. The man seemed very resistant to pain and all kings of damage. Sandy knew trading punches would get them nowhere. Neither of them could be defeated by that, and they would just keep going on and on until one of them got bored of that game. Sandy knew it would be him. Luckily it was also him who had the means to finally end it. He just needed to breach that shell of anger and calm the green man down even if it was against the man's will.

He readied a ball of dreamsand again.

It fell and scattered from his hand when a burning beam hit him in the back of his head. Momentarily disoriented but not really hurt, Sandy looked for the source of the new attack. It was higher up in the air, gleaming red and gold. The metal man who had taken young Jack.

"Okay, who the hell are you supposed to be?" the newcomer asked.

Sandy pursed his lips and frowned. The green man aimed a punch at Sandy's back, but Sandy managed to move out of the way without problems. The metal man – Stark, if Sandy remembered correctly – sped towards them with the force of some sort of rockets at his suit. The green man spared a glance at Stark and grunted in greeting. Sandy chose this moment to aim a new barrage of dreams at the green man. They hit the man's face, and he sputtered in surprise.

Stark looked at the fading dreams and then directed his masked face at Sandy.

"Unicorns?" he asked in disbelief, "Seriously, who are you supposed to be?"

Sandy formed a picture of sleeping children and wiggled his fingers, creating a few more dreams in explanation. The others didn't seem to get it. The green man lunged at Sandy again, moving a bit more sluggishly than before. The red and golden man shrugged his metal-covered shoulders and decided to join the fight. Sandy sighed silently. Now he had two stubborn, rebellious children in his hands.

Stark fired another beam of light, which wasn't very difficult for a seasoned fighter to avoid. Too bad that Banner had decided to try and trample Sandy almost at that same moment seeing how Sandy was now rather close to the ground. Sandy avoided the beam and then threw a hastily formed dream – one he would never call good enough to make it into a child's mind – at the charging Banner's face before shooting upwards into the air. The green man stumbled to a stop when his target left his reach, again wiping his face in irritation. Sandy could see him swaying on his feet a bit.

"You okay there, big guy?" Stark asked.

Banner growled something barely coherent in response and again shook his head violently. Sandy dove back towards the ground and Stark shot at him again. This time multiple times, one of the projectiles grazing the points of Sandy's hair. It was getting very annoying for Sandy, to be honest. It was time to put these children to their place.

Sandy flung his whip forward and it wrapped around Stark's arm. With a flick of Sandy's wrist, Stark was sent flying towards the ground. Sandy's other whip caught Banner around the wide forehead, and Sandy pulled himself again close to the green man's face. Stark hit the ground just when Sandy let him go, metal clanging against rocks and Stark shouting in what was probably annoyance. Banner tried to swat Sandy away like Sandy was a very persistent fly, but Sandy would have none of that any more. A huge dream dolphin crashed against Banner's face, causing the giant of a man to stagger back and slump to the ground, breathing heavily and eyelids drooping. Sandy wasted no time creating more dreams. He weaved the most calming thoughts he could manage into them. They all descended upon the raging green beast, lulling him into a state of serenity, almost tipping him over the edge of sleep. For a normal person, it would have been over three weeks' dose of dreamsand. But now it was just barely enough to return the green beast into the form of a man. Sandy watched the monster wane, muscles decreasing in size and green shifting back to slight tan.

Bruce Banner didn't say anything for a long while. It was Stark who broke the silence with the quiet humming of his suit, getting back up and rising up into the air. Sandy turned sharply towards the man and raised his hand warningly. Stark crossed his arms.

"Did you just defeat the Hulk with a dolphin?" he asked.

"It was a dream," Banner said drowsily, "He creates dreams. I don't know how, but he does."

Sandy nodded fiercely, creating more images he hoped would be understood. He had needed to keep Banner away, he said. The base was in chaos. They just wanted their own back.

"You're the Sandman, aren't you?" Stark concluded, again sounding like he barely believed what he himself just said, "That was one of the names Frost-kid apparently gave in the interrogation."

Sandy nodded and pointed at himself. Then he became serious, angry even. If these people had hurt young Jack... well, Sandy knew violence would solve nothing in this, but he surely wouldn't be pleasant towards these people. Stark raised his hand, the glowing beam-weapon charged and ready to shoot. Sandy readied a ball of dreamsand in case the man really was stupid enough to continue the fight.

"Wait, Tony!" Banner said suddenly, "Don't you dare shoot that thing! Are you saying S.H.I.E.L.D. kidnapped a kid? Fury didn't mention anything about _that_."

_Yes, they kidnapped our boy_, Sandy mimed and even created the whole sentence in cursive writing over his head, _and we want him back_. _We don't want to fight you._

"Then why are you attacking us?" Stark asked.

_Because we suspected you wouldn't want to talk. We needed you away from Mr. Fury to actually get to talk to him._

"Well, he does have a point there," Banner said.

"Hey!" Stark snapped indignantly, "That kid attacked me in my own home! What were we supposed to think about that?"

Sandy crossed his arms and looked at Stark very sharply. Stark sighed tinnily into his helmet.

"Why do I always have to deal with the weird ones?"

Banner rose gingerly to his feet. Sandy glanced warily at the man, but was surprised to see a weary smile on the man's face.

"Sorry about him," he said, nodding towards Stark, "And sorry about all of... this. Tony, put your hand down."

"What?" Stark asked flatly.

"Put it down," Banner repeated, "I don't think this guy wants to hurt us."

_I definitely don't._

"See?"

"What makes you so ready to believe this guy all of a sudden?" Stark inquired.

Banner looked at Sandy with an unreadable expression on his face. The man wiped sweat from his brow and took a deep breath.

"I don't even know," he admitted, "But he makes me feel calm."

Stark laughed a little at that, and Sandy smiled widely at them both.

* * *

Nick Fury had been afraid this would happen. He had practically been expecting it. But it had still taken them all by surprise. The beings they had worked so hard to locate were now trying to break through their defences. They were apparently doing a good job at it too seeing how they had managed to break windows and apparently cause some of the agents get much more nervous than their training should have allowed. Most of the agents were by now outside save for those who were trying to adjust cameras to actually see the attackers.

Fury hurried along a corridor, a gun in his hand, and almost bumped into Rogers, who hadn't even had time to change out of his Fifties' shirt and into his Captain America -uniform. The man carried his stars-and-stripes shield firmly in his hand, though.

"Rogers?" Fury said questioningly, "What are you doing here? I thought you were outside."

Rogers blinked as if only now realizing Fury was there.

"Some of them are inside as well. Clint is doing fine outside and he said he saw some slip in here."

Fury quickly checked his surroundings, not really getting what Rogers was talking about. It all looked clear, but then again, one couldn't really trust their eyes too much these days.

"I think there are a lot of creatures here that we can't see," Rogers explained in a very serious tone of voice, "Clint said that he suddenly saw a bunch of shadows attacking the place. I think I glimpsed one or two in here after that."

"Great..." Fury muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, "Rogers, check the interior the best you can and fight off whatever's not supposed to be here."

Rogers nodded and ran to the opposite direction from Fury, who continued on in his own way. He needed to find Hill.

He was halfway to the room where Hill was supposed to be when he came face to face with a large man in a heavy fur coat. The man had just stepped around the corner and now regarded Fury with intense blue eyes.

"Ah, Nicholas Fury!" the man boomed, "How lucky! You are just the man I wanted to talk to!"

The man had a long, white beard and bushy eyebrows and he looked pretty much like how media liked to depict Santa Claus. Except that Santa Claus usually didn't wield two massive sabres or speak with a thick Russian accent.

* * *

**Author's Note: This will be a longer A/N. Just a heads-up. First of all, over 200 reviews? I don't know what to say, except THANK YOU! You guys are so awesome!**

**So I had to take a little break from this for two reasons. One: school and other stuff to do. Two: I reached the point that I usually reach in every creative thing that I try to do; the point when I decide that everything I have done is absolute crap and should be destroyed in a fire... So I took a little break from this and then stepped back and reread everything I'd posted so far and decided it wasn't quite as terrible after all and decided I had the next chapter figured out well enough to do the final edits and post it! So while I did this I also fixed some spelling errors I had missed before in almost every chapter and rewrote some sentences. I didn't change the actual content so you don't have to reread in fear of being confused.**

**I also drew some cover art like I already pointed out in the beginning of this chapter! TONY! Why is your suit so hard to draw and why can't you get into a dynamic fighting pose? I would have wanted all of the Guardians and the Avengers in the cover, but it would have been too crowded for the picture size on this site so I just decided to go with a scene from chapter 5 because drawing long, skinny legs is always fun. The picture is drawn with colour pencils and markers.**

**Next thing: mythology stuff. So Thor and Jack met up in this chapter and so many people seemed to be expecting it and also expected Thor to call Jack Jokul Frosti which I at first was actually planning not to do. But then I did some quick research and yeah, it does fit so there you go. According to my research, Jokul Frosti was actually ****_not_**** a god, (the son of one, granted) but a sprite. I'd figure it's kinda like a lesser god-creature. Not that it matters that much in this story but it was interesting.**

**On a similar note, Jack calling Thor "old man" can be taken as Jack just joking about Thor's age, but it's actually another mythology reference. You see, in Finnish mythology the God of Thunder is named Ukko, which literally means "old man" in Finnish. It is also a legit first name and a rather popular one even today. For bonus points in terms of this fic, in RotG's Finnish dub Jack's name was Ukko as well. In that case it came from Pakkasukko (which was his full spirit-name in the film). It's a combination of ****_pakkanen _****(it means ****_frost_****, as in ****_freezing temperatures..._**** not in any other meaning of****_ frost_****.****Seriously, I like English so much but it has very limited vocabulary when it comes to wintry things) and ****_ukko._**** It's probably the most well-known name for a winter spirit in Finland and it usually refers to the Russian spirit of winter who brings gifts to Russian Greek Catholics (Orthodox) around new year.**

**Okay... long, pointless ramble over.**


	11. Reunions

**11. Reunions**

It was slowly getting dark in New York. The youngest children were already being tucked into their beds, listening to bedtime stories told by parents who assured them the nightmares wouldn't come that night. The bad dreams had been quite a frequent occurrence in New York especially after the Chitauri. The children were afraid, asking their parents if the things would come back again. The parents assured that everything would be fine, putting on a brave face and hoping they were right. There were heroes out there to keep them safe. Great heroes, like the Avengers.

The children believed their parents. But the nightmares still came like so many nights before. They had just got worse after the strange lights had disturbed the skies not too long ago. They were dreams of a dark figure and an army of shadows that loomed in the darkest alleyways, waiting for the right moment. Something the children's parents couldn't stop. Something the police couldn't stop. Maybe something even the Avengers couldn't stop. And tonight was the worst so far.

When lights were put out in the apartments of the people who went to sleep during the night and the more nocturnal people populated the streets, inky shapes started to creep on the roofs of the skyscrapers. Red eyes started to flare into life among the shadows. The children and even some adults curled up tightly in their beds and screwed their eyes shut when the nightmares started. The shady creatures moved on the walls and down to the streets. They entered houses through windows without anyone noticing. Because the only indication of there being something was the feeling of dread and the fact that all the good things in the world felt much more distant than a second ago. The sleeping people were the only ones so far who could see the monsters, and even for them they were just images in a dream, sometimes causing a child to cry or an adult to wake up gasping in panic before they settled back down and tried to forget it all.

But tonight there was no real forgetting. Because tonight the tallest shadow at the top of a roof was ready for the next phase in his plan. His sharp teeth gleamed in the light of the street lamps and the illuminated advertisements. The Moon was covered by a veil of night clouds. The Guardians were busy elsewhere, locked in conflict with the Avengers. And the people still remembered the alien attack and the strange lights in the sky.

Pitch Black raised his hand and watched his nightmare sand curl around his slender fingers. He wasn't quite as strong as he would have liked yet. But the Chitauri had unintentionally given him a great opportunity. So had those foolish Guardians by showing themselves to a group of paranoid agents. All they had needed was a little push here and there, and now they were in a full-blown war with each other. And Pitch was free to wreak havoc in this vulnerable city. A vulnerable yet powerful city where news travelled fast almost everywhere.

Some people were already afraid enough to actually see the shadows flitting over walls and across the skies. And when the invisible threat became more and more real to the people, it felt much harder even for children to believe in the more innocent and magical aspects of the world.

* * *

Jack stumbled, clutching his chest when the hollowness inside him became even worse. He had managed to ignore it lately while being on survival mode, but now that he was in the company of an ally it came back harsher than before. For a second he felt light-headed and he had to support himself against a wall to prevent himself from falling.

"Jokul?" Thor asked, "Are you well?"

"I... I really need some fresh air," Jack breathed, "And my staff."

Thor's heavy hand landed on his shoulder, grasping his hoodie and unceremoniously hauling him forward. Jack stumbled a bit but managed to stay walking.

"Come," Thor said, "If that is the case, we need to keep moving."

The fit passed, but the hollowness was still there. Jack wondered if it really was just the missing staff and being confined for so long. Something else was a bit off as well. Jack couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was. But he could worry about that after he had his staff back. He pushed it to the back of his mind for the moment and let Thor take him forward along the corridor.

* * *

Fury studied the man in front of him. Frost had indeed said one of the Guardians was called "Santa Claus". This man sure fit the title.

"Nicholas Fury," the man repeated, "I must say I am not very happy with you recent behaviour."

This man also seemed to be very unconcerned that he had just entered a closely guarded law-enforcement facility where everyone carried guns.

"Put down your weapons," was Fury's only answer to the man's odd greeting.

"I certainly would like to," the man said merrily, "If you also put down yours. You and I have some things to discuss. I am Nicholas St. North, but you can just call me North to avoid confusion. I do not like putting fancy titles on family members, but to speak your language I am what you might call leader of these Guardians you have been hunting lately."

The man named North sheathed his sabres and raised his empty hands.

"I have come to... how would you say... ah, negotiate with you."

"About what?" Fury asked.

North's face darkened suddenly, and Fury almost felt intimidated by this Santa Claus for a moment. So much for jolliness.

"You took our boy," North accused, "We want him back."

"You mean Frost," Fury stated. It was fairly obvious who the man was talking about.

"Yes," North said, "We understand you are afraid because you do not know much about us. I am here to explain what you need to know. Although it is a bit... hectic here now, I admit."

North motioned animatedly at his surroundings. At the moment things seemed calm enough indoors, but Fury knew the man was also talking about the commotion outside.

"If you really are here to talk," Fury said, "You aren't making a very good first impression. You just attacked us again."

"Again?" North questioned, "We did no such thing before. Our boy just fetched what belonged to one of us. And even now, most of this attack is not our doing."

"Then who is it?"

North sighed.

"It would be better if you did not know. But I guess it doesn't matter any longer. It's the Boogeyman."

For a second, Fury didn't know what to say. It was a very strange instance in his life. There was a moment of silence when Fury wondered if he was hallucinating it all, just because the situation was so very absurd. He was aiming a gun at a Russian man who was supposed to be Santa Claus and who claimed S.H.I.E.L.D. was under attack by the Boogeyman. Yes, it could of course be a code name again. But in that moment Fury started to think that maybe it wasn't. And then he wondered if he was going crazy.

"Normally we are the ones who fight him," North went on, "If you give us our boy back, we can help you."

"Funny," Fury said flatly, "Because 'your boy' claimed you people can't fight in our wars."

"We can't," North said, "But whenever monsters like this are involved, it is _our _war too."

"And you would help us just like that and not hold a grudge about this?" Fury asked, "Even if this wasn't making you look bad enough, we couldn't let Frost go before we can make sure what the hell you people are and what exactly you do."

Because they really couldn't. It was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s duty to protect people from serious threats. If they just let a group of super-beings go without thoroughly investigating the matter, without being _one hundred percent sure_ that they wouldn't harm anyone, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be doing their job. Fury had always been ready to take even a bit more extreme measures to do what he had to do. If sustaining global security meant holding an underage person who actually wasn't underage confined against his will for some time, Fury would do it. If he didn't, the Pentagon or some other organization would find an even more extreme way of dealing with these people.

North took a step forward and Fury clicked his gun's safety off just in case. The huge Russian man didn't seem to mind, and he stopped only a step away from Fury, a strangely compassionate look on his face. When he spoke, it was in an understanding tone Fury didn't like at all:

"You already know what we do. You just don't accept it. Some things just need to be believed in. You already believe we exist. Now you just have to believe there is good in us."

North smiled.

"You are resourceful man, Mr. Fury. You see opportunities others might not see. But is clouded by paranoia. Sometimes things you discover may not be as bad as you think they are. Sometimes you just need to look at them with a bit of wonder instead of mistrust."

Fury stared at the man. Now this Santa Claus was talking to him in fatherly tones about wonder. It was a moral straight out of a children's story, something Fury couldn't afford believing in. If he took away his mistrust, all those wondrous things around him could take advantage of it and kill everyone.

"I admit that we are very upset about this all," North said when Fury's words failed him again, "And if you have harmed our boy, there will be consequences. But I also understand you. Sometimes hard decisions must be made in order to protect people. But is not us you need to protect people from."

"From what, then?" Fury asked, "'The Boogeyman' doesn't sound good enough of an answer to me."

"Is good enough," North said, "He is powerful, corrupted person who sustains himself on fear. He commands these Nightmares and Fearlings... these shadows that are attacking you now."

Fury lowered his gun just a little at that. In that moment Thor found them. Fury could see the God of Thunder walk around a corner and halt when their eyes met. Thor raised his hand in greeting.

"Fury, don't shoot. I need to speak with you."

But before Thor could say what about or anything else for that matter, a small, skinny figure rounded the corner as well, and familiar ice blue eyes brightened at the sight of the Russian man in front of Fury.

"North!" Frost shouted, excited like a kid whose dad had just come home from a long business trip.

Frost pushed past Thor and ran to North without caring at all that he was also stepping in front of a gun. It took all of Fury's considerable self-control not to fire at the sudden movement. North's mouth curved into an unbelievably happy smile under the white beard, and in a second the man had swept Frost off his feet and into a mighty bear hug that looked like it should have crushed every bone in the kid's scrawny body. Frost didn't seem to mind too much, though, judging by the laughter and the fact the boy wrapped his arms around the Russian to return the hug.

"Jack!" the Russian boomed, "I'm so happy to see you! Are you all right?"

"Well, mostly," Frost said in a muffled voice, "North, you do know that guy is pointing a gun at you?"

North put the boy down, ruffling the mess of white hair and still smiling happily before his expression changed to that of fatherly concern.

"Yes, I am aware. Did they hurt you?"

"Not much," the kid assured, "But they do have my staff, I think."

North looked very sternly at Fury, pushing Frost back so that North could stand between Fury and the kid. Thor stepped beside Fury, indicating with his hand that Fury should put away his gun entirely. Fury wasn't quite ready to do that just yet.

"These people aren't the real enemy here," the Asgardian said, "Young Frosti may be mischievous and a troublemaker, but he is a good lad. And St. North is a great man. You should listen to them."

"Ah, thank you, Mr. Odinson," North said with a jolly spark in his eyes, "Is good to see you! How are things in Asgard?"

"As well as they can be, knowing us," Thor said.

"Good! We definitely need to chat more later. But first..." North looked at Fury again, "We had some business to take care of, no?"

"Well, you got 'your boy' back," Fury said, "But I still need to get this attack taken care of."

"That can be arranged," North smiled, "If you could get a message to your agents to not try to hunt down Bunny so that he can properly take down the Nightmares and the Fearlings outside."

"He's the kinda annoying giant rabbit with boomerangs," Frost elaborated helpfully, a very wide grin on his face. The ice kid seemed to enjoy Fury's confusion immensely and didn't even bother trying to hide it.

"Bunnymund is here too?" Thor inquired almost reverently, "Aye, he is a great warrior indeed."

As much as Fury loathed admitting it, the situation clearly wasn't in his hands any longer. Reluctantly he opened a link to agent Hill.

"Hill? Can you get across a message to as many agents as possible? Tell them to target shadow monsters and leave alone the... giant rabbit."

A bit of his professional pride died when he uttered those words.

"I... I actually think Rogers and Barton are already on it," Hill answered in a tone that indicated her professional pride had somewhat suffered during the recent events as well.

* * *

Clint looked momentarily away from his target – a screaming, twisted humanoid shadow – to see Steve Rogers returning from inside the building. Steve had taken to the battlefield only briefly before things had got complicated. Before a threat shaped like a giant rabbit had become a threat shaped like dozens of freaky shadow-monsters. Steve had chased some of the monsters that had broken into the base, but now the man was back, holding his shield at the ready and looking around for the enemy.

"Everything's okay inside?" Clint asked quickly and let his arrow fly even as he was still looking at Steve.

The arrow hit its mark, and a scream told Clint the shadow was done for. Steve threw his shield at another creature and easily jumped high enough to catch the shield back into his hand. The man landed next to Clint and nodded as an answer to Clint's question.

"Seems clear enough. I managed to inform Fury about the shadows too. I think we can drive them away."

"Well, the rabbit seems to think so," Clint said, nodding towards the huge fighter bunny.

The bunny moved almost impossibly fast, throwing boomerangs and some sort of spheres that exploded into pastel colours. The thing was even wearing war-paint and... was it occasionally doing Tai Chi moves against the monsters? At first the thing had seemed hostile. But as soon as Clint had managed to convince the few agents that were still standing that they should be shooting at shadows the rabbit had clearly been fighting on their side. Clint had decided to go with it, partly because it seemed arrows and bullets did nothing to slow the rabbit down.

Clint aimed quickly at a black demon horse and let his arrow tear through its body, which exploded into some sort of sand that didn't have time to reshape itself before the rabbit finished it off with its boomerang.

"Good goin' mate!" the rabbit shouted, "Just keep it up!"

Oh, yes. And this giant killer rabbit was also giving motivational shouts with an Australian accent. For some reason that was the most surreal part in the whole thing for Clint.

Steve actually punched a monster that sneaked a bit too close for comfort. Steve then backed closer to Clint so that they could watch each others' backs.

"Their ranks are thinning," Steve said, "But most of our agents are down too."

"Yeah," Clint shot an exploding arrow that wiped another demon horse out of existence, "Let's hope whatever's sending these things here runs out of monsters soon."

And for some reason Clint felt like he could have hope of that. Things looked a bit bad and extremely confusing, but they had got through worse. Clint would just focus on aiming at the right things like he always did. They could do it. For some reason Clint didn't lose hope even when a new wave of shadow creatures emerged from between the trees. In fact, at that moment his hopes really soared, if only because at that very moment a portal swirling in all shades of the northern lights appeared into the sky and Natasha Romanoff flew through it.

Clint Barton had never seen the Black Widow fly. Well, actually, he _had_ seen that once, in a dream he would never, _ever _mention to Natasha. But now it was real. Natasha descended upon the last wave of shadows like a black-clad angel of vengeance and shot three of the shadows in the head with her gun even before she dropped onto the ground. The birdlike creature that had been carrying Natasha through the portal swooped down and tore through an entire row of shadows, viciously ripping them into shreds.

"Let me guess," Steve said to the rabbit that had just hopped next to the two Avengers, "That bird is a friend of yours?"

"Yep," the rabbit said, "She's a fairy, though. Tooth! Over here, sheila!"

The rabbit raised his paw and almost casually eliminated one of the remaining shades by swiftly tossing an exploding... egg? The monsters that remained were quickly disposed of by the three Avengers and the two strange Guardians. As soon as the last shadow withered away the birdlike fairy zipped to the rabbit's side, followed quickly by Natasha, who greeted Clint with a small smile.

"Bunny!" the fairy chirped to the rabbit, "I heard there was trouble, but it seems the plan still worked!"

"Plan?" Steve repeated, "What exactly was your plan?"

The fairy looked at Steve and beamed, flashing very white teeth.

"Oh, hello! It's kind of a messy place to be meeting in, but it is nice to meet you two, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barton! I am Toothiana. I see you met Bunny already!"

The fairy talked very fast. And in a very friendly way. Clint looked questioningly at Natasha, who had apparently decided to side with the fairy at least long enough to get a ride from her. Natasha nodded towards the fairy.

"We have an understanding," she said, "What happened here?"

"An attack," Clint said immediately, "By freaky things. And this Bunny over here."

"Hey, I was only fighting ya 'cause ya were attacking _me_," the rabbit, Bunny, grumbled, "You people have trouble listening, don't ya?"

"Speaking of listening," Toothiana spoke up, "Is North inside?"

"Who?" Steve asked.

"One of us," Bunny explained, "Santa."

"He should be talking to your director," Toothiana said, "The Fearlings and Nightmares didn't get inside, did they?"

"If you mean the monsters, then some did," Steve replied, "Not a whole lot. I think it's all taken care of."

"At least for now," Natasha mused. She glanced at Bunny, "So... I guess you are the Easter Bunny?"

* * *

Now that Fury had finally decided not to point guns at anyone, things had settled at the base. Fury had left Jack and North to sit in a room with a guard at the door and was now somewhere else talking to Thor. Jack didn't mind. It was nice to have a little more peaceful moment after all that had happened in the last few days. Well, the peaceful moment was a bit ruined by the fact that North had entered what could only be called the overprotective mode. The man was fussing, not leaving Jack's side and constantly asking if Jack was all right. Jack supposed he should just be grateful there was actually a friendly face in his company, someone who actually wanted to care for him. And he _was_ grateful, of course he was. But the total independence he had got used to still had a tendency to make him feel weird when he got too much attention.

"What happened to your shirt?" North asked after running out of injuries to check and turning his attention to the tears in Jack's hoodie.

Well, at least that was a concern Jack also shared. As a person who didn't own many things, he really wanted to take care of what he did own.

"It just took a few hits," he said vaguely, tracing the edge of the tear at the front of the hoodie with his finger, "Can it be fixed? It'd be a shame to have to ste... _find_ a new one. I've had this since the early Eighties."

"I see what I can do later," North assured, "After this is over."

"It's a deal," Jack smiled, but it turned into a frown when a thought occurred to him, "North, why exactly did Pitch attack this place? And where is he now?"

North shook his head.

"I don't know. I think Pitch was never here himself. Maybe he just wanted to do harm out of spite."

"But why here?"

"Maybe because you were here," North said, "He doesn't like you very much. Or maybe he did it to make us look worse to these people than we already did."

"Wait, wait, wait," Jack waved his hand wildly to get North slow down, "You think he knows we've had trouble with the Avengers?"

"Is very likely. He is a sneaky one. Always spying and lurking about."

Yes, it did make sense. Pitch had probably spent the last month or so watching them from the shadows and laughing his head off. That shadow-sneaking son of a...

"Jack, language!" North scolded.

Jack shot North an incredulous look.  
"I didn't even say anything!"

"I could read it from your expression."

"I've heard you cuss too, "Jack said accusingly, "And _you're _supposed to be the nice and jolly Father Christmas."

"Is too late for me to change my ways."

"And it isn't for me?"

North chuckled and smiled under his beard.

"Is good to have you back, my boy," he said and squeezed Jack's shoulder, "We were so worried about you."

A smile tugged at Jack's lips and he leaned into the comforting touch. Yep, it was definitely nice to be cared about. It was during that actually rather heart-warming, almost father-son-like moment when Fury and Thor decided to come back. And they had some company. Jack recognized Steve and the bow-guy whose name was Clint-something. There was also a female agent with fiery red hair at the door, and next to her...

"Jack!"

For the second time that day Jack found himself tackled into a hug. He almost fell off the chair he was sitting on when Tooth clung to his neck, chattering so quickly she might as well been chirping like her mini-fairies.

"I'msogladtoseeyouareyouokayhowareyourteethdidthes epeoplehurtyoubecauseiftheydidI'llmakethempay..."

"Tooth," North said in his "leader"-tone of voice, "Give boy some space."

It was hilariously hypocritical of North. Tooth let go of Jack and quickly looked him over for injuries, pursing her lips in dismay when she saw the blood on Jack's sleeve. Over her feathery shoulder, Jack could see Bunny also hopping in and looking visibly relieved to see Jack.

"Frostbite, great to see ya," Bunny said and then turned to Fury, "Looks like ya really got nearly all of us here, Mr. Fury."

Fury didn't say anything for a while. When he did, all he said was a very clipped:

"I suppose so."

* * *

Steve quickly made a mental list of the spirits they had chased for the last few weeks and who were now sitting in a room with them. An old Russian man who moved with the ease and strength of a man in his prime. A homeless teenager with ice powers. A bird-woman who was surrounded by miniature copies of herself. A tall warrior-rabbit. And through the video link Fury had opened to communicate with Tony and Bruce Steve could see there was also a small, round, golden man made of sand among the Guardians. All apparently centuries old. And Steve had thought the Avengers formed a weird group.

"So..." Fury said gruffly, "Now that you are all here, I need to know one more thing. What does your existence mean for us?"

"Nothing," North said, "We have been doing our job for centuries without bothering you. Why should it change now?"

Fury's forehead creased into a frown.  
"Because now we know about you."

"Oh, by the Moon!" Toothiana sighed, "If you need to put everyone on a side, we are on yours. Especially now that Pitch attacked you too."

"I was getting to that," Fury said, "If you spirits aren't going to be a threat, you do admit that there are some among you that _are_. That's also why we need to care."

"Well, now we are getting somewhere, I suppose," North said, "We would be happy to assist you with your spirit-problem... if you apologise first."

"...what?" Fury asked flatly.

North frowned.

"Nobody ever taught you manners? You held Jack against his will for days and mistreated him. And I have you know that if you weren't acting believing you were doing right thing, you would suffer _much _more severe consequences. But now, an apology would suffice, or what say you, Jack?"

Jack grinned, looking like he wanted to openly laugh at Fury. Steve hoped the kid wouldn't actually do it, though. The fragile peace in the room might just shatter if he did. Fury had an incredulous look on his face, and Steve didn't blame the man of that at all. Jack hopped down from where he had sat on the back of a chair, moving lightly as if gravity was something he obeyed only because he occasionally felt like it. Which was true, actually, seeing how Steve had seen the kid fly. Jack sauntered over to Fury, looking up at the man a bit smugly and extending his pale hand.

"Yeah, I think I don't want to make this any harder for you guys," Jack said, "So an apology, along with giving me my staff back is enough. As long as you don't go kidnapping spirits again."

Fury looked at Jack's hand like it could explode at any second. Then, grudgingly, he shook it.

"Fine," he said, "We apologise for this, Frost."

"Apology accepted," Jack said, "Now, I want my staff."

Fury made a quick call to someone, and in a few minutes agent Hill entered the room, holding the crooked stick in her hands. Fury took it from her.

"I'll just have to trust you won't destroy this base the second I give this to you," he said sternly, looking at Jack.

"Don't worry, I promise I won't," Jack said, "Give it back."

The boy reached for the staff, and as soon as his fingers closed around the wood, frost spread all over it. Jack held the weapon close to his chest, a relieved smile on his face. His finger traced a burnt spot on the stick and he closed his eyes. Blue light spread over the charred bit, fixing the damage like it had never been there. Jack smiled at the staff in approval and rested it over his shoulders.

"Much better," he declared, "But I should probably go outside before... oh, too late."

Something started falling from the ceiling. Steve lifted his hand to catch one of the white flakes and watched it instantly melt into a drop of water on his hand. Snow.

"Sorry," Jack said but didn't sound too apologetic, "I'll stop it in a second."

Fury wasn't amused in the slightest.

"You'd better."

The snow was still falling lazily when an insistent beeping indicated there was a call for Fury.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hmm... the e-mail notifications seem to be working again. That's good. I think I might have accidentally not approved a guest review for some reason because it has refused to show up... if someone's review hasn't shown up, I apologise. It's not my intention to censor you guys.**

**We have just broken 20 000 views, 200 favs and 250 reviews! Not that anyone's counting except the counters on FanFiction. I just... I kinda gathered that RotG/Avengers crossovers are kinda popular after I got such a warm welcome for the first chapters already but I didn't expect people to be so excited about my take on this. I'm feeling very loved now, so thank you all again!**

**Now before I forget: so many people have been worried about the mini-fairies Natasha shot at. Since it was also the concern of some guest reviewers, I'll now state that****_no_**** fairies were permanently harmed in the making of this fic. To me, the mini-fairies are just as immortal as Tooth herself seeing how at least in the books they are extensions of her.**

**Also some were interested to know what exactly Jack did to make a bad first impression for the Asgardians. Well, I... have absolutely no idea. I think you all can imagine what you want about it :D**

**People have also been very mad at Fury. I kinda feel sorry for him now. So I decided to try to elaborate on what he is going through in this chapter. But I also did severely hurt his pride so there. I almost expected Samuel L. Jackson to somehow appear before me while I was out rollerblading and lay his vengeance upon me for writing the apology-scene... But he didn't, thankfully.**

**We are nearing the end, people... just a few more chapters to go.**


	12. A Night in New York

**12. A Night in New York**

It was a few minutes past midnight in New York City when the panic really started. People on the streets had felt the creeping distress all night, but then street lights started popping like spark-filled balloons and entire blocks became pitch black in an instant. The screams started. People didn't know what to do. Sparks rained down on them in the dark and something moved among them, brushing past them and sometimes dragging someone into the shadows accompanied by a horrible scream. Some people ran blindly into any kind of shelter, some just huddled together and some didn't move at all in their fear of being crushed or dragged away. The police officers present tried their best controlling the chaos, but even they didn't quite know where these people could go if they wanted to get to safety. Distressed phone calls were made all over the place, but no one could exactly tell what should be taken care of.

Probably the only ones who had even the faintest idea of what was out there were the S.H.I.E.L.D. -agents that were still patrolling the area and still had their special scanners for locating the Guardians. It was an agent named Brooks who was the first to actually think of using them after a moment of confusion. Through the scanner's filter Manhattan's airspace was filled with strange colours and otherwise invisible blobs of energy. When Brooks put the scanner down, she could see shadows filling the sky even with the naked eye. Judging by some of the people's reactions they saw the shadows as well. They just didn't know what it was they saw. Well, not that Brooks had that much of an idea herself, but at least she knew who would have.

She signalled her partner to keep an eye on the situation while she herself rounded a corner of a brick building to get into better cover while making her call. She had to jump over a body of a most likely homeless person who had probably been trampled in the confusion. She crouched next to the body and quickly checked it for signs of life. There were none. The face under the mass of dark brown dreadlocks was pale and the eyes were open in shock. Brooks bit her lip out of sympathy for the poor soul and then she was back in professional mode. She needed to call Fury.

* * *

While Fury was out of the room answering his call, the Guardians held a quick meeting right where they were. They knew they were still being watched, but that couldn't be helped. Especially since the only way to keep Sandy in the conversation at the moment was through Stark's video link. That didn't mean being under surveillance during a Guardian meeting wasn't uncomfortable. As if Jack wasn't feeling enough discomfort as it was. Even after getting his staff back, he could feel something was wrong. Something still made the air feel thick in his throat, occasionally closing off his lungs for a few panic-inducing seconds at a time. He gripped his staff a bit tighter, curling his legs around it and trying to focus on the comfort that being whole again brought him.

"What do we do now?" Tooth asked quietly, "Pitch is still out there somewhere."

"We need to find 'im," Bunny announced, "We can't just let that shadow-lurker go after all this."

"Indeed," North said, "We... Jack? Are you feeling all right?"

Jack realized that North was looking at him worriedly.

"I don't know," he admitted, "It's a bit hard to breathe. It's like someone stepped through me and just stayed there."

The others looked at each other in concern. Tooth rubbed her arms as if she was cold, and Jack worried for a moment that he had carelessly dropped the temperature in the room too much. But then he realized the fairy was just maybe feeling a bit under the weather in general as well.

"I don't think you are the only one who's feeling off, Jack," she said, "Are we... losing belief?"

When Tooth actually said those words out loud it made a horrible amount of sense. The Guardians sat in stunned silence, and only Sandy dared to voice his opinion. It was just a silent nod. Jack ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath and feeling light-headed.

"It does make sense," North finally said, "Jack would no doubt feel it the strongest."

Of course Jack would. He didn't have that many believers to begin with. North seemed reluctant to say it, but Jack knew they were all thinking it. North's forehead creased in worry.

"If is happening so fast, there has to be something unusual behind it."

"Something like Pitch," Bunny said darkly.

"He sure has had the chance to do anything he wants lately," North said, "I am sure he knew we would be going here. He sent a small army to make sure we were busy..."

"While he struck somewhere else," Bunny finished, "Somewhere not far from here. Where people are still shaken after an unknown attack."

"Hold on," Stark's voice interrupted Bunny's chain off deduction, "Let me guess. He's in New York?"

Yes. It made sense.

"Most likely," North agreed.

Stark sighed.

"Aw, great... we just got it almost fixed..."

Jack jumped to his feet, ignoring the dark spots that briefly skipped through his field of vision.

"Then we can't stay here," he said, "Pitch is probably already in New York."

"I agree," Tooth said, "Fury must understand that..."

As if on cue, said Fury burst into the room, shouting orders into a microphone. He stopped on his tracks when he got in and looked at the Guardians very sternly. He barked a few more words at whoever was in the other end and then turned the connection off.

"Hey, Fury," Stark said from the screen, "Trouble in New York?"

Fury masked his surprise very well.

"So you know. People are in panic there."

"We just figured as much," Jack said, "It's the Boogeyman. We're going there."

"Now hold on!" Fury snapped, "Do you remember what happened last time you decided to fight over there? You caused the light-show that started all of this!"

"Oh, no, _mate_," Bunny growled, "Ya're not starting this again. We-"

"Bunny, he has a point," North interrupted, "There are adults there too. If recent events have proved anything, is that adults either don't see us, or then they fear us. Especially if we go in there now and just start fighting. We need to find a better way."

"We could somehow steer him away from the city and be sneaky about it," Tooth suggested, "Not sure how, though..."

"Or," Jack looked up at the others, "We could just go in with proper fireworks."

The others stared at him. Bunny huffed.

"Weren't ya listening, ya gumby? We just said..."

"I know what you just said," Jack said impatiently, "But there are bound to be still plenty of kids there who can see us. As for the adults, we just need someone _they _can relate to better. Someone they can count on protecting them."

The stares were still on him. But now they were less doubting and he could even see a few smiles.

"I take it Frosty is talking about all of us working together," Stark said.

"That is not a bad idea," North admitted, "If these people are all right with it, that is."

"Oh, I don't think Fury minds, at least," Jack said and glanced at the man in question, "Didn't you want us to work together if just so you'd know we're on your side? Now you'd get your wish."

Fury pressed his mouth into a tight line, frowning as though Jack saying something that made sense was the greatest insult imaginable.

"Well, I'm in," Stark said lightly, "We're going to have to be there anyway, with or without holiday mascots."

Sandy nodded enthusiastically.

"See?" Stark said, "Even Goldilocks here agrees."

Fury sighed irritably.  
"I don't need any more convincing. I've had enough of that to last for a week. Just... go before things get even more out of hand."

Jack could see a sort of weird, cheerless beginning of a smile on Fury's face.

* * *

They assembled into three teams. The first team consisted of Tony, the Sandman, and Bruce, seeing how they would have to take another route to Manhattan anyway. The second team would be travelling on ground level, and it was formed by the Easter Bunny, Clint, and Natasha. The third team would be travelling through the air, and North had promised to give them a ride to Manhattan. Steve wasn't quite sure what to expect at first. After Bunny called up some sort of a magic tunnel that swallowed the rabbit up along with both Clint and Natasha, Steve figured the Guardians' understanding of "ride" could mean anything. Steve was left standing on the front yard of the S.H.I.E.L.D.-base along with Thor, Toothiana, and Jack while North disappeared through the swirly wormhole he carried in his pocket.

"Why can't we just use those?" Steve asked, pointing at the fading portal.

"Oh, we will," Jack said cheerfully, "North'll just get something that helps you more grounded people actually stay airborne once we get there."

"Good thinking," Thor pointed out, "Especially since we were supposed to survey the situation from above first."

"And," Jack added, "The sleigh is too awesome to not be used!"

"Sleigh?" Steve repeated just when the portal opened again and a long line of fearsome reindeer galloped wildly through it, dragging behind them a polished, red sleigh. It was streamlined and fast, a sports-car of sleighs. It swooped down in a tight curve and landed on the grass, the runners sliding through it as smoothly as they would slide through snow.

Jack jumped up and down and looked again just like an overexcited teenager.

"I call the right side!" he shouted and wasted no time jumping on the railing on the right side of the sleigh.

"Huh," Steve could only say, "I have a feeling I should have been expecting a sleigh."

"Indeed," said North, waving his hand from the driver's seat, "Get in, everyone! We have one Boogeyman who needs to be taught a lesson!"

Steve climbed into the back seat, and Toothiana landed next to him. The feathery woman arranged her wings neatly behind her back and straightened herself into a very royal posture. Thor sat in front of Steve, and Steve suddenly found the sight of the God of Thunder riding in Santa's sleigh extremely funny. He didn't really laugh at it out loud, because just then the reindeer were spurred into full gallop, and soon they were treading air. Steve gripped the side of the sleigh just in case when the ride became far less smooth than it had been a moment ago. North's booming laughter mixed with the howling of the wind. Jack spread his arms and closed his eyes, looking like the air currents ripping at his hair and clothes was the greatest thing in the world. The swirling wormhole was opened again, and Steve braced himself for travelling hundreds of kilometres in a split-second.

It was a funny feeling. Not very unpleasant, but strange. Steve couldn't really begin to describe it, and now there wasn't time for it either. For as soon as they saw the skyline of Manhattan open before them, tattered shadows tumbled through the air and swooped down at the sleigh. The shadows' malformed mouths twisted into a battle screech, but they didn't get close to the sleigh before a blue, almost melodiously crackling beam of light froze them solid. Another volley of shadows took their place immediately.

"Try to land this thing, fast!" Toothiana shouted to North, her wings starting their rapid fluttering.

The fairy drew a pair of slim, elegantly curved swords from her belt. A group of miniature fairies took a formation behind her. Toothiana rose above the sleigh, still keeping up with its speed.

"Jack," the fairy said in a commanding tone, "We can back North up when he lands."

The boy nodded.

"Right!"

Jack jumped, the invisible force – which Steve deduced to be the wind – catching him and sending him almost chaotically at the wave of monsters. Toothiana followed the boy, spinning her swords quickly and slashing a shadow into pieces on her way.

North steered the sleigh rather recklessly towards the nearest flat roof of a building. The reindeer dove towards it as if they were just galloping down a steep slope. Steve gripped the side tightly and kept his body balanced against the turbulence.

"If you want to get into fray quickly, get ready to jump!" North shouted over the cacophony of screams and wind.

North tugged the reins sharply and the sleigh turned so quickly it almost tipped over. Steve would have never imagined it was humanly possible to perform a bootlegger turn with a flying, reindeer-drawn sleigh, but somehow North pulled it off. The sleigh scraped the roof of the building and Steve could see a few sparks right before he jumped high, landing on the roof of the building next to North's landing space. Thor was right behind Steve. The man lifted his hammer up towards the sky. Lightning struck, splitting the darkness and illuminating the mass of shadows that crawled on the walls and floated in the night sky.

"Looks like we have our work cut out for us," Steve stated, "You ready?"

Thor nodded.

"Oh, yes."

"Remember," said North, who had just scrambled out of the now parked sleigh and drew his sabres, "Pitch can't ultimately be killed. Our best bet is to give people down there a peace of mind. Make them stop being afraid."

"Understood," Steve said, easily slipping back to his more soldier-like persona.

They had been briefed on this Boogeyman's powers. He was a shadow-man who drew his power from fear. The people down in the streets might not see the man, but they sure saw the damage he and his minions caused. That was more than enough.

Steve readied his shield and steeled himself against the wave of demon horses that had apparently sniffed out him, Thor and North and were charging at them in full gallop. They didn't get very close before Steve tossed his shield, cleaving one of the black horses in half.

* * *

Tony almost felt nauseous when his energy filters suddenly went haywire when they got to New York. He had to switch some of the screens off just to avoid a migraine. Not that he needed the screens anyway. He could see the shadows in the sky perfectly well with his own eyes. Against all logic he had to guess he wouldn't have seen them if he hadn't believed them to be there. Tony flew as close to the central Manhattan as he could without being an instant target for the flying shadows just yet. He looked to his side, where the Sandman was sitting in the cockpit of a retro biplane made of sand. Bruce sat at the back of it. A shirtless guy in a sparkly plane driven by what looked like an equally sparkly cherub. This years' Pride-parade poster was complete.

"Okay, Sparkles," Tony said, "What exactly is the best way of dealing with these things?"

The Sandman lifted his hand enthusiastically and quickly cracked his sand-whip at an approaching demon horse. The horse shattered into black sand that turned golden at the Sandman's touch.

"O... kay," Tony rolled his eyes at the Sandman's expectant smile, "And the best way for us who aren't made of magic sand?"

The Sandman punched his fist into his palm.

"That sounds good to me," Bruce commented, "Can you drop me off on that roof? I can take it from there."

The golden head nodded vigorously and the little man steered the plane towards the building Bruce had pointed at. Shadows flew after them, and Tony was quick to fire at the group of silhouettes, breaking it up and giving the Sandman and Bruce some space as the plane landed. He saw the golden plane dissipating as it reached the roof, and Bruce walked a few steps on the concrete before growling and turning green. It was definitely on now.

The Sandman rose up on a small cloud of gold, and mimed with quick gestures something that Tony couldn't really make much sense of. The man was pointing at the houses where people cowered under tables in fear of the unknown attack. But what he meant to say about them, Tony didn't know.

"What?" Tony shouted.

The Sandman face-palmed and then wrote a short sentence in his golden cursive over his head:

_I need to calm down the people indoors._

"Oh, okay," Tony said and fired a beam at the nearest shadow that got too close for comfort, "You do that. Bruce and I can take care of the fighting in this part of town."

The Sandman's only response was a rather panicked pointing of a finger over Tony's shoulder. Tony spun around in the air as quickly as his suit allowed and brought his hand in front of him for protection just before a surprisingly solidsand-horse ran into him. Tony planted his palm against a sandy flank and fired. The horse exploded into black particles, which the Sandman quickly transformed back into happy sparkles.

"Thanks for the heads-up," Tony mumbled before speeding into battle against a cluster of some sort of twisted shadow-men.

The shadow creatures were fairly easy to dispose of as soon as one got in a couple of good hits. They seemed to be really made of some sort of elastic shadow-substance. Their claws were sharp and they were fast, but most of them were also small and fragile. They also didn't seem to like intense light. It meant Tony's arsenal was pretty much ideal for killing them.

He advanced fast through the shadow swarms. He saw lightning split the sky in half somewhere near the Chrysler Building. So Thor was in that area. Good to know. Tony manoeuvred himself quickly through the urban maze, occasionally glancing down to see people swarming the streets like disturbed ants. He blew up a sand-horse and rocketed towards the largest shadow group he could see. He shot around five repulsor blasts that all hit their marks before he was in the middle of the group.

"JARVIS, get ready to speed up," Tony said almost casually and spun around in the air, firing blasts at the monsters that tried their best to gang up on him. He did probably make a very good target. Red and gold in the mass of darkness. Just before the shadows closed in around and above him, he shot straight up, letting loose a couple of small missiles that disappeared into the shadow mass before they exploded, scattering the shadows into oblivion.

"Nice one!"

Tony looked at the direction of the youthful voice and saw Jack Frost sitting cross-legged in the air like a frozen, underfed Buddha-statue. His staff was clutched in his hands and Tony could see some strands of frosted darkness raining down, an indication the teen had also been busy dealing with the monsters.

"Of course," Tony replied to the compliment, "Glad to see you all made it here. And just to make sure... no hard feelings for the mess before?"

Jack shrugged.  
"Not much. But don't be too surprised if you wake up one day to find your house frozen."

"Thanks for telling me in advance, Peter Pan," Tony said sarcastically, "I'll need to check if my insurance covers that."

Jack chuckled but became serious again when another volley of shadows charged at them. The kid backflipped over a sand-horse, straightening from his lotus position and kicking a smaller shadow that followed the horse. Tony raised his hand to blast at the horse that was now coming at him, but someone else beat him to it. A shield cut the air and sand and returned to the hand of Steve Rogers, who stood on a rooftop nearby.

"Tony!" Steve shouted, "Keep your guard up, I think I saw a really big shadow somewhere around here!"

"It could be Pitch," Jack said, turning to look at Steve, "You know, the Boogeyman."

"Okay, what exactly does he look like?" Tony asked.

"Tall, dark, and creepy."

"That's really helpful," Tony deadpanned.

"Fine... how about..." Jack's eyes widened, "Just like that guy over there! Steve! Look out!"

He pointed at a tall man who emerged from the shadows right next to Steve. Captain America spun to face the shadow-man and quickly took some distance, bringing his shield up in defence. Tony landed next to Steve and heard the soft tap of bare feet that told him that Jack had also landed somewhere out of his field of vision.

The Boogeyman's lips curled into a hateful sneer, exposing razor-sharp teeth. His face was straight out of uncanny valley, with wide, amber eyes and slightly off bone structure. He seemed to be wearing darkness.

"Hello," the Boogeyman said in a deceptively silky voice, "This is certainly a surprise. I would have thought you would be fighting each other until morning, at least."

He also had an accent. Tony looked at Jack questioningly.

"The Boogeyman is British?"

"Nah," Jack said with a shrug, "It's just the accent. I think he's actually from space."

Then the kid's eyes became chilling like a night in Siberia and he aimed his staff at the Boogeyman.

"Jack," the Boogeyman greeted with the kind of fake friendliness that one might use to express absolute hate, "Fancy seeing you here too. Are you still as insecure as before?"

"You can spare all of us from that crap, Pitch," Jack hissed in response, "Just get the hell out of here!"

"Language, Jack," Pitch chastised mockingly, "What would little Jamie think if he heard his hero using words like that?"

Tony could almost hear the _snap _when the kid's patience ran out. With a growl, Jack fired a blast of ice that froze the tips of the Boogeyman's hair when the man dodged. The man landed on his knee and raised a hand. Tony barely had time to jump out of the way before a wave of black sand nearly knocked him and his two companions down from the roof. Steve jumped backwards and rolled out of the way and Jack hopped into the air and stayed there. The Boogeyman used the distraction to retreat back into a shadow and didn't come back out. Not until something crashed at Tony's back and pushed him off the roof. His suit's functions died down for no apparent reason and he realized with alarm that he couldn't fly at the moment.

"JARVIS?" he shouted, "JARVIS? You still there?"

There was no response. Tony plummeted through the air and towards the street at least ten stories below.

* * *

Bunnymund dug his way up through concrete and asphalt and arrived into the middle of some kind of mass hysteria. He quickly reached into the tunnel to pull the two agents up with him. Some people nearby seemed very startled after seeing two armed people just appearing into their midst, but their attention was too focused on the much more threatening things that were happening to really give the agents a second thought. Threatening things such as the light show in the sky and the explosions. Bunnymund growled wordlessly at the sight. Pitch had gone too far this time. Well, that man's mere existence mostly consisted of just moments of going too far, but this was probably the flashiest way to cross the line in a long time.

"C'mon," Bunnymund said to the two agents, "Let the people know ya're here to protect them. And try not to get squashed."

Because it really was a possibility. Bunnymund held his breath as he manoeuvred through the throng and coughed out a curse whenever a person ran through him or just frantically waved their arms too close to him. Bunnymund steeled himself and hopped forward. He really had his work cut out for him. These people needed hope.

Bunnymund could see streaks of gold among the dark. Good. That meant Sandy was already doing his job. The two agents were also doing their part. They ran among the people, sometimes shouting orders to them, telling them to seek better cover and to calm down. A police officer looked visibly relieved to see the two. That was a start. Bunnymund readied his boomerang just in case, but his main objective now was to raise the morale of the people. Usually just by being in his presence people could have a spark of hope; they could feel that things weren't really quite as terrible as they might seem at first. He hopped along the street, destroying any Fearlings that got into his way and made sure the ankle biters watching through the windows would see him. He saw some of the small faces brightening a bit when he looked up. Someone might have called out to him. He quickly turned around a corner to another street and faced another group of people who suddenly felt just a little more at ease in the confusion. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was a start.

The police officers seemed to be very much motivated by the appearance of Barton and Romanoff at least, and with help from the two agents they managed to get the people under control enough to empty a few streets in the centre. Bunnymund hopped to one of the now deserted streets and looked up. Black, blue, and golden light mixed together and it was all spiced by lightning. It sure did look flashy from the streets. Flashy and threatening. The Guardians should really rethink their fighting strategies in urban environments, especially when the human technology surprisingly enough almost reached North-levels nowadays.

"Okay, things are getting a bit calmer down here on the street level," said Romanoff, coming to stand beside Bunnymund, "I think we're needed more up there."

She nodded towards the chaos in the sky. Barton peered up into the shadows and suddenly lifted his bow and shot an arrow that dove into the darkness and judging by the scream impaled a Fearling.

"Show pony..." Bunnymund muttered under his breath, "But yeah. Ya should get a ride from any of the flying people around here."

Bunnymund looked around as he spoke, looking for the said flying people. Sandy seemed to be the closest, emerging from an apartment complex that was probably now full of sleeping people and sweet dreams.

"Sandy!" Bunnymund shouted, waving his paw, "Ya ready up there?"

Sandy nodded quickly and pointed towards the sky.

"Exactly!" Bunnymund shouted, "These two agents want to get into the action too!"

Sandy lowered himself to the ground, looking amiably at Romanoff and Barton. The two agents exchanged a bit uncertain looks when Sandy quickly formed his dreamsand cloud, but they got onto the platform of gold surprisingly quickly. Bunnymund supposed the time for suspicions really was over. Now they all had a common enemy. That was something that brought people together regrettably well.

"I'll find my own way up, thank you," Bunnymund said when Sandy looked at him questioningly, "I'll make a few more rounds before catching up. Leave some for me too, will ya?"

Bunnymund turned away from the cloud of sand that was lifted up like an elevator at Sandy's command. He turned his attention back at the shadows still skulking in the alleyways, out of reach of the still functional street lights. Bunnymund approached them steadily, almost calmly, and then let them all be shattered with an accurately thrown boomerang. He almost had time to smirk at his victory before a metal man fell from the sky, crashing harshly against the pavement. Bunnymund was startled, and he almost attacked the man out of instinct before he caught himself and realized that the man was Stark. And he didn't seem to be faring so well.

"Bloody hell!" Bunnymund breathed, glad there weren't any ankle biters around to hear him curse like that. He hopped over to Stark, who was struggling to get into a sitting position. There was a small crater where the man had landed. Stark put a hand to his helmeted head and breathed out a long sigh that sounded metallic in the suit.

"Ouch," Stark said, "I think I found the big guy. Packs quite a punch."

"Ya found Pitch?" Bunnymund asked, "Where was he... no, wait, never mind. The bloody ratbag could be anywhere by now. Are ya okay?"

"Yeah," Stark sighed again, "The suit went dead for a moment, but it's back up. I need to do some maintenance once this is over, but for now, I'm good. And don't worry about the shadow-guy; I think I saw Steve and Frost going after him."

Stark rose back to his feet, brushing some dirt off of his armour and said some commands to what Bunnymund assumed was the artificial intelligence doing most of the work in keeping the suit functioning. After a moment of listening to the A.I give a status report Stark nodded.

"Okay. I'll go back up now."

"Hey, wait..." Bunnymund started, but Stark had already propelled himself upwards and was about ten stories high already. Bunnymund huffed. Why did he have to deal with these kind of people? Just... people? He sprang against the wall of a building, grabbing a windowsill and starting to climb and jump with the ease born from centuries of practise and, well, just from being a bunny in general.

* * *

**Author's Note: ...I had to write ahead a quite a lot to get my thoughts together. Also, school and exams and a bit of a writer's block slowed me down. But hey, have some more fighting! And a random creator cameo... sort of. I based the description of the dead homeless person on myself. I'm not actually homeless, though. I just like wearing second-hand clothing. :)**

**This is the second time Tony called Jack Peter Pan so I might as well mention now (since I forgot the first time around) that it's a reference to the fact that Peter Pan apparently was a big part of William Joyce's inspiration for Jackson Overland Frost.**

**Thank you all again for your support!**


	13. A Touch of Fear

**13. A Touch of Fear**

Jack raced after Pitch's retreating form. His flight wasn't nearly as fast as usual, considering he practically had to battle through a storm of small Fearlings. Mostly Jack could just swat them aside, occasionally letting his power go to wipe out the monsters that were too close to him. Steve Rogers was running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop below Jack, and Jack had to be genuinely impressed by the man's physical prowess. Steve could actually keep up with Jack at the moment, which was something no mortal had ever achieved.

Pitch glanced at Jack over his shoulder and melted into the nearest shadow. Jack pressed his arms to his sides and shot through the air as fast as the wind allowed. He definitely didn't want to lose Pitch now. The faster they took care of the man the better. Even if Pitch couldn't be killed, he could be de-powered just like any other spirit. At least he would stop his rampage if he was knocked around enough. Jack flew through the now empty shadow Pitch had disappeared into and landed on a roof. The uneven concrete scraped the soles of his feet, but he was so used to the feeling that he barely even noticed it. Jack held his staff at the ready, looking around and listening to possible sounds of lurking.

Steve leaped over the last gap between the houses and came to a stop in front of Jack. The man didn't even seem to be out of breath after running through half the city centre on rooftops. Steve looked around and then glanced at Jack questioningly.

"Did he hide into the shadows again?" Steve asked.

Jack nodded.

"He tends to do that. He's kind of a coward."

"That's a bit rude, don't you think, Jack?" a sinister voice hissed from the edge of the roof.

Jack and Steve spun around to face the shadow of a man who stood there. Pitch's eyes were gleaming dangerously and he took a step forward, a large nightmare sand -scythe taking shape in his hand. Jack aimed his staff at Pitch's chest and didn't waste time for any witty one-liners. Blue light shot from the staff, freezing a window behind Pitch when the Nightmare Kind dodged in one fluid motion. Jack didn't have time to shoot again, because Pitch swung his scythe and Jack had to jump over it. He flipped in the air, the wind carrying him an extra foot away from his enemy. Jack landed back on his feet and saw Steve throwing his shield at Pitch. The shield missed as well. Pitch was like liquid in his movements. Vile, most likely poisonous liquid. The Boogeyman slashed at Steve and Steve had to jump all the way back to the roof of the neighbouring building to not get hit. Jack moved out of the way of the scythe when the swing reached him and aimed a strike of his own at Pitch's head. His staff didn't make it all the way to the Boogeyman's thick skull before Pitch's hand stopped it. Shadow-clad fingers gripped the staff, and Jack was jerked forward to face Pitch's ominous sneer.

"Say, Jack," Pitch growled through shark-like teeth, "Do you know what I _hate _the most at the moment? Annoying, centuries old ice pixies, who just. Keep. Getting. In. My. _Way_!"

"That's very specific," Jack pointed out and jumped, swinging his leg over his trapped staff and kicking Pitch in the face.

The Nightmare King yelled in pain and stumbled backwards, letting go of the staff. Jack jumped back, getting some distance between him and Pitch, who looked extremely murderous even with the shimmering layer of frost coating his cheek at the spot where Jack's foot had connected.

"Although," Jack smirked, "I'm _not_ a pixie."

Pitch responded by thrusting out his free hand and sending forth a wave of nightmare sand. It was a swift attack, but Pitch should know by now that it wouldn't be nearly quick enough to actually hit Jack. The wave of sand crashed violently against the wall of a skyscraper. The same skyscraper where Steve had landed and from where the man now jumped back into the fray. Captain America sprinted towards Pitch and aimed a punch at the man. Jack had to silently applaud the amount of guts Steve Rogers had. The man had just challenged the epitome of fear to a fistfight. It was a bit unbelievable, and undeniably awesome. So awesome that Jack almost forgot about the rest of the fight while watching the two men trade punches and in some cases strikes from a shield or a nightmare scythe. Jack was brought back to reality when a Fearling almost latched onto his head by its teeth. Jack recoiled from the little monster and bashed it into pieces with his staff, at the same time trying to keep an eye on Pitch, who was thankfully still busy in the vicious brawl against Captain America. Jack jumped into the wind and disposed of the other Fearlings that were trying to get to their master's aid and then spun quickly in the air when he heard the approaching hum that was a bit too mechanical to be Tooth. It was Tony Stark, whose suit had an impressive amount of scratches on it but who seemed remarkably okay even after a dozen-story drop and an abrupt date with the pavement.

"You alright?" Jack asked just in case.

Tony gave him a quick nod.

"Sure," he said, "The suit's very durable."

It certainly seemed to be. Jack turned his attention back to Pitch. The Boogeyman had just got punched in the face by Steve, something Jack frankly wouldn't have wanted to miss. Jack landed lightly back on the roof and aimed a shot of ice at Pitch now that the man wasn't so close to Steve any longer. Pitch dodged it, but only barely, his sharp teeth baring in anger. Pitch lashed out with his hand, his glare fixed on Jack. But instead of attacking Jack, the wave of nightmare sand shot at Steve, who jumped to the side at the last second. What Steve didn't have time to avoid was the large Fearling that leaped out of the shadows and at his back. The shout of warning died in Jack's throat when he realized it was too late and he instead broke into a run, charging to the man's aid. Steve was slammed against the roof, where he somehow managed to turn and grip the Fearling's deceptively slim arms and tried to wrestle himself free.

Tony was flying right behind Jack and Jack heard the by now familiar sound of the man firing a ray from his palm. It missed only because the Fearling chose just that moment to dart its head down and apparently tried to bite Steve's face off. Steve stopped it by shoving his elbow into what was probably the monster's face. And while this was going on, Pitch was almost leisurely strolling towards the downed man, readying his scythe.

Jack launched himself at Pitch, the wind aiding him in his leap. The crook of his staff crashed against Pitch's shoulder, knocking the man back and against the wall of the small rooftop entrance in the middle of their battlefield. The wall was brightly lit by the still functioning, lit advertisements nearby. There was little room for Pitch to retreat into shadows. Jack dared a lightning fast glimpse at Steve and saw that the man had managed to throw the Fearling off of him and was now fighting it and its a bit less impressive buddies with renewed vigour.

Pitch lifted his hand again, black sand swirling around his fingers. Jack slammed the butt of his staff against the man's palm and then swung the other end at Pitch's head. Pitch's scythe shattered.

"Tony!" Jack shouted, "Help Steve!"

"You okay there on your own?" was Tony's response.

Jack took a punch to the nose from Pitch but refused to back away. He needed to keep Pitch cornered while the others took care of the Fearlings that had now began to swarm the rooftop. He kneed Pitch in the stomach and then let go of his staff altogether, letting it fall to his feet and wrapping the toes of his left foot around it to keep his powers flowing properly without putting the staff at Pitch's reach. He used both hands to pin Pitch against the wall, his right forearm pressing against the Boogeyman's sickly grey throat.

"I'm fine!" Jack yelled, "Just take care of those Fearlings!"

He didn't see if Tony did as he said, but he just had to trust the man. Jack had to focus fully on struggling with Pitch, who was now clawing at the restraining arm to get himself free. Jack was fairly sure the man would succeed in that sooner or later. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't physically as strong as Pitch was, even if he had the more advantageous position and he actually had all his weight supported firmly against the roof. He punched Pitch in the solar plexus and let ice spread over the man, slowing down the man's struggles.

"Not very... heroic to go around strangling others," Pitch wheezed out, gripping Jack's arm into a death-grip and pushing it away enough to talk, "Especially seeing how... much you are afraid of that yourself."

"You really should just stop talking, Pitch," Jack snarled, "And I'm not afraid of that!"

Pitch twisted Jack's arm to the side and Jack gritted his teeth. He shifted his foot to make sure his staff wouldn't slip from between his toes, all while charging up his power into one attack that should be enough to at least incapacitate Pitch temporarily.

"But you are afraid of drowning," Pitch's voice broke through his concentration, "It's a shame there isn't much water around here."

Pitch used his free hand to grip Jack's collar and jerked him forward without much effort. Pitch's sharp-toothed smirk was suddenly far too close to Jack's face to his liking. But still he wouldn't move. If he did, Steve and Tony would be open for Pitch's attack. And the two men already had their hands full with the Fearlings.

"Do you think you are being a hero by trying to take me on empty-handed?" Pitch asked in a threatening tone, his teeth grinding together sickeningly with each forced syllable, "A brave little sacrifice to keep those people safe. The people who were so _afraid _of you just a little while ago. The people who only believed in you as a threat."

"I thought I told you to stop talking!" Jack practically spat the words out.

Sand was again gathering into Pitch's hand, forming something sharp. Jack acted fast; he slammed his palm against Pitch's chest and let an icy explosion send Pitch right through the wall the man had been pressed against. Power surged through Jack, feeling refreshingly cold in his veins. Pitch landed in a heap among the rubble that used to be the rooftop entrance.

Jack let the remaining energy he had readied for the attack dwindle back into his being so that he wouldn't exhaust himself too much just yet. The fight was far from over. He tried to take a deep breath, but realized with panic that he couldn't. When the adrenaline and charged-up magic wore off, sharp, burning pain assaulted his chest and he realized his legs had given out when his knees hit the roof painfully. Jack coughed and a coppery taste rushed into his mouth. He was almost afraid to look at the damage, but he knew he had to.

Just before being blasted away, Pitch had formed a simple black spike, which was now shoved deep into Jack's chest. Jack desperately tried to draw another hitched breath, but could only manage a feeble cough.

_It's not fatal. You know it's not._

He tried to keep telling himself that even when he slumped onto his side and heard someone yell his name through the haze of panic. A strange feeling of wrongness spread through him.

_You're immortal. It's not going to kill you. It's probably not even going to corrupt you. You just need to get it out, fast._

He needed to breathe.

_No, you don't. You won't die._

The voice that was his common sense was finally silenced by the fact that he felt like he was drowning. This time, though, instead of icy water it was his own blood that filled his lungs.

He desperately clawed at the concrete, trying to reach for his staff. His vision was blurry, but he knew he wouldn't pass out. And oh, how he wished he _could _do that. Someone yelled again, but Jack couldn't tell who it was.

All he saw was a shadowy silhouette that got up unsteadily just before a blur of red and gold assaulted it.

* * *

Thor Odinson was sure he had never found himself fighting side by side with any of the Guardians before. He had known about them for a long time, sure, sometimes even interacted with them. But most of the time the Guardians had just left the Asgardians alone and vice versa. Now however, Thor had the chance to see these legendary protectors of childhood in action.

He stayed on the rooftops of the tall buildings, accompanied by Nicholas St. North, the man who brought presents to many children in the world every year. The man was truly a mighty warrior, using two sabres with impressive strength and speed. North had been a bandit once, and that cunning adaptiveness was mixed with a sharp, strategic eye and phenomenal accuracy with the strokes of his blade. It was refreshingly easy for Thor to fit his fighting style with that of North's into smooth teamwork. It didn't take long before Fearlings were falling left and right.

Queen Toothiana stayed close to them as well. She commanded an army of her own. Her fairy warriors were very small, but also very fierce. They were everywhere on the battlefield, and they didn't hesitate tearing apart every monster that got into their way. The queen herself was the fiercest of them all. Her beautiful face was frozen into a look of stern concentration that was so unlike the gentleness she had expressed in the presence of her comrades. She flew from shadow to shadow with blinding speed and handled her swords with admirable grace. An iridescent Valkyrie from the East.

Thor lifted Mjölnir against a new group of shadows. They fell easily with just a couple of strokes. But there were many of them. No matter how many they struck down, the shadows' ranks didn't seem to be thinning. Thor threw Mjölnir through a black warhorse's flank and let his weapon then return to him. Behind him, North cleaved through a few more enemies and then raised his hand to greet a flash of grey that joined them on the rooftop.

"Where's that bloody tin can?"

It was Bunnymund, who had climbed and jumped along the walls all the way up. The great warrior, who could even travel through the currents of time itself. Thor wished he could chat with the Pooka a bit more later. Bunnymund would surely have a lot of tales to share.

"You mean Stark?" North asked when Bunnymund again asked for "the tin can".

"Ya bet I do," Bunnymund growled, "He was attacked by Pitch!"

"Where?" Thor asked immediately.

Bunnymund shrugged his furry shoulders.

"Frostbite and Rogers went after Pitch, I think. They'll need help."

North's eyes darkened.

"Indeed," he said, "We must try to locate him now. I feel something bad might happen."

Or had already happened. North waved at Toothiana, who nodded and sent her fairies out to an even wider area to look for their foe. Thor, North, and Bunnymund started battling their way towards where Bunnymund's heightened senses led them in search of Tony, Jokul, and Steve.

* * *

Steve had just finished off what was probably his eighth shadow when the sound of exploding metal and concrete made him look back to where Jack was fighting the Boogeyman. The shadow man was temporarily out of Steve's sight, but he could easily guess the man was in the middle of the pile of rubble that now sat on the roof. Then Steve's eyes fell on Jack, who let out a strange, strangled squeak of pain. Steve lifted his shield almost off-handedly to block a small shadow and tried to locate the source of Jack's evident discomfort. He saw it just before the boy slumped to the roof. A black spike protruded out of the boy's back and dark blood seeped into the blue hoodie.

"Jack!" Steve glanced at Tony, who had just shot two more shadows out of existence, "Tony!"

Tony looked down at Steve and Steve quickly motioned towards the injured boy before breaking into a run. He heard Tony shout something that would never pass the censors and saw the man blasting through the sky and lunging at the shadow of a man, who had just got up from the rubble.

Steve's mind was in soldier-mode. One of their own was down. They were surrounded by enemies. Tony was taking care of the biggest threat, so Steve would have time to focus on protecting the wounded. Steve practically threw himself to his knees, skidding to a halt beside Jack. He quickly checked his surroundings once more, chucking his shield at the two shadows who came at him.

When the monsters withered away, the rooftop was clear save for the Boogeyman. At least for now. It would have to do. Jack groaned and coughed, desperately reaching out his hand towards the staff that lay just a few inches from the pale fingers. The boy's eyes were wide and fearful, looking strangely alien to Steve, who had never seen the boy express anything more negative than mild misery.

"I've got you, Jack," Steve said in his best calming voice and made sure the boy looked at him before bringing his hand on the bony shoulder, "I can help you."

He didn't say it was going to be okay. He had no way of knowing that, and it felt idiotic saying such childish things to a seasoned fighter. Now that Steve could get a closer look, the damage looked far worse. The black spike went all the way through and judging by the blood that now coloured Jack's thin lips with messy red and the short, desperate gasps that had replaced normal breathing, it had punctured a lung as well. That wasn't good. But hadn't these Guardians already proven they could take an immense amount of abuse without batting an eye? Maybe the boy really _would_ be okay.

"Jack," Steve spoke firmly when the boy's eyes glazed over in the beginnings of a shock. The boy's lips were turning blue, "Jack! I need you to listen to me. I've got you. If I take the spike out, do you think you can pull yourself together?"

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth opening and closing in his desperate attempts to breathe properly. He coughed up more blood. Steve pressed his mouth into a tight line. He wasn't really up to date with today's medical procedures and even first aid had gone through so many changes while he had been in a block of ice. And he supposed it didn't matter anyway since he was now dealing with a creature science didn't know existed.

"Jack!" Steve called again, shaking the boy lightly and causing him to flinch, "I'll pull it out, okay?"

Tony suddenly landed on his side next to Steve and Jack, launched through the air after being caught under a tidal wave of that black sand. The Boogeyman, Pitch, limped towards them, his grey face twisted into an angry scowl. The man's midsection had been frozen solid, and Tony had apparently managed to shoot out a chunk of the man's side. It was reforming even as Pitch walked, black sand knitting the wound together and erasing all evidence it had ever been there.

"I don't understand you," Pitch said through gritted teeth, "Why do you even bother trying to save _him_?"

He nodded towards Jack, who was now weakly clawing at his own chest where the spike had entered. Steve didn't like the idea of moving the kid now, but as Pitch walked closer, he figured he needed to at least get the boy farther away from the enemy. Steve gathered the small, freezing body into his arms and took a crouching step back, trying his best not to cause Jack too much unnecessary pain. Jack yelped when his body was moved, and his eyes snapped wide open, still fogged with pain and anxiety. Pitch laughed at the sound and looked very pleased with himself. Tony pushed himself up into a sitting position, and Steve could imagine the man glaring at Pitch under his mask.

"We bother because we get along with him," Tony said in his usual snarky tone, "Unlike with you."

"Really?" Pitch sneered, "Not your best comeback, Mr. Stark. Especially seeing how just a moment ago you were happily trying to beat these Guardians to a pulp. I'm serious, what do you think you gain from siding with them? Such childish things... dreams, fun, wonder... you should all know they are just here to distract from the real world. They are something you can't afford to really have. But fear... _fear _is what keeps people alive."

"No..." said a very small voice. Steve looked down at the spirit in his arms. Jack's eyes had regained some of their usual shine, but he didn't seem to find the strength to say anything more.

"Fear is what the people need," Pitch went on, "It keeps them on their toes. It kept you all from being completely surprised when things really got bad some time ago. It keeps you wanting to seek out whatever out there might want to kill you."

"Like you?" Steve growled, taking another step back.

If he hadn't had a wounded comrade to protect he would have punched the living daylights out of the Boogeyman. Tony stepped in front of Steve and Jack and raised his hand threateningly towards Pitch.

"Me?" Pitch laughed coldly, "I told you: it's my job to spread fear. To take away all those useless dreams and wonder. No one ever said anything about killing."

Jack took a trembling, strangled breath.  
"That's not..." he broke off into a hacking cough, "That's not what... People still need..."

"Hey," Steve said, "I don't think it's very smart of you to try to talk."

He was rather sure that if Jack had been a normal human, he wouldn't have been _able _to talk much any longer.

"A very good piece of advice, Mr. Rogers," Pitch said, "I find his talking very irritating as well."

Tony said a few words to his suit and, apparently happy with what he heard in response, fired a beam at Pitch. The Boogeyman moved out of the way, disappearing into the shadows and appearing on another rooftop, the wicked, black scythe again in his hand.

"How cute," he said, "You really do defend him... even though you don't really believe in him. You never did."

Jack opened his mouth, and Steve was sure what the boy was going to say was a heated protest. But no sound came out save for another wheezing cough. Steve adjusted the boy in his arms so that the kid's airways were as clear as possible.

"Don't try to fool yourself, Jack," Pitch smiled almost gently, "You know it well enough. They claim to understand you, but to them you are still just a kid with strange powers. They don't believe in what the Guardians stand for. There is no place for those things in their world."

Tony took a threatening step forward. He had clearly had enough of the manipulative speeches.

"Steve," Tony said without looking away from the Boogeyman, "Get the kid treated."

Tony rose up into the air and launched himself forward. Steve took that opportunity to distance himself and Jack from the Boogeyman and ran as smoothly as he could to the other end of the rooftop. He stopped on the way only to pick up Jack's staff. Jack immediately snatched it from Steve's hand, clutching it almost convulsively. Well, at least Steve didn't have to worry about carrying that too in addition to Jack and Steve's own shield. When he reached the end of the rooftop he jumped, shouting a quick "Sorry!" to Jack, who whimpered in pain when they landed. The kid seemed to be slipping into shock again. Steve forced himself to just focus on running. He needed to get the kid to safety. The Guardians were very resistant to damage, but Steve knew even the most persistent beings usually had at least some sort of limits. He really hoped this wouldn't be it for Jack.

* * *

Tony had to admit that even though the Boogeyman hadn't seemed so scary at first glance, the man could be pretty damn creepy when he really wanted to. The slasher smile that split the man's sickly grey face during battle was rather unnerving, promising pain and mental torment the man could most likely back up as well. Also, the Boogeyman seemed to have firm control over the atmosphere of the situation, making the night foreboding like a psychological thriller. Horror film industry would no doubt pay good money for those abilities. Too bad the man didn't seem to be all that interested in worldly possessions.

As shadows and energy flew between Tony and the man named Pitch, Tony did his best trying to steer the man away from Steve and Jack. He hoped whatever it was that had hit the ice kid wouldn't be fatal, or worse. The kid was a pain in the ass, but also quite fun to be around. Even if the kid's snarky comments could sometimes get annoying, mostly because Tony had to silently admit that his own comments were usually very similar.

Pitch didn't seem to be tiring even as they raced through Manhattan. Hadn't the Guardians said that getting the people in the city believing in lollipops and sunshine would weaken the Boogeyman? If so, the Guardians hadn't managed to do their job well enough. Maybe something had gone wrong.

Tony took a blast of the black sand to the shoulder. Again the functions in his suit died for a moment, and he had no idea why. He fell, but this time he had kept himself hovering over the rooftops the best he could, and he managed to land on his knees on top of a couple dozen-story house. His right knee took the brunt of the fall and sunk into the roof, making a noticeable dent in it.

"JARVIS?" Tony called, "What's going on with that sand?"

"I have no idea, sir," came JARVIS's reassuringly calm voice after the suit came back to life, "It is possible it has some corruptive properties. Perhaps they are interfering with the suit."

"Son of a bitch..." Tony sighed, "Note to self: figure out how to protect your electronics from the powers of darkness."

The shadow in the wall next to Tony swirled into life, and the Boogeyman emerged from it, grin-first like the Cheshire Cat. His scythe was poised for a strike, and Tony barely managed to duck under the swing. His elbows hit the roof and he rolled out of the way.

Pitch stepped completely out of the shadow and into the dim light. Tony prepared to move out of the way of another strike, but the Boogeyman was even faster than he had expected. The scythe slashed across Tony's chest, and for one horrible moment he feared his arc reactor would stop working as well. The hit burned even through the suit, but at least the suit protected him from the worst. Air left his lungs, and he fell onto his back.

The Boogeyman advanced, and was it just Tony's imagination, or was the man growing taller? No... no, it wasn't. Pitch really was taller than before. Taller and more threatening. Especially now that Tony was again without proper control of the suit.

Tony took a deep breath.

"Well, shit."

* * *

**Author's Note: I don't think I've written so many swearwords into anything before this fic. Tony! Shame on you! Also, I have the flu so my brain isn't working that well. So what's a writer to do? Well, make the characters suffer, of course!**

**Response to RandomCitizen: No, I am not actually dead... or am I? :D**

**Some book references in this chapter: Bunny's time-travelling abilities are mentioned. Yes, he can do that in the books. He seems to like working as a sort of a time police (time lord?) in his free time. Also, Pitch is a size-shifter so he can grow taller at will. The fact that his powers mess up Tony's suit was kind of a random move from me, but it can be sort of justified by the fact that Pitch could cause Katherine's compass to malfunction just by touching it in the books. The compass was part magical but still...**

**I'm trying to wrap this up in two more chapters. Keyword: trying. Thanks for the support!**


	14. Nightmares

**14. Nightmares**

Bunnymund hopped across the rooftops so quickly that even North and Thor seemed to have some trouble keeping up. But Bunnymund was too focused on the scents around him to really pay attention to much else. His surroundings were a mess of different smells, all soaked in that wrongness that normally surrounded Pitch, but Bunnymund could still discern the scent of metal and the strange energy source that was Stark.

Toothiana joined Bunnymund, her wings keeping her easily beside him even as he ran faster. Toothiana pointed her fairies to their spots on the battlefield as quickly and easily as she instructed them on their tooth-retrieving duties.

"No sign of Pitch or the others in the eastern parts," Toothiana translated after one of her fairies chattered her report, "Mr. Banner is on a rampage somewhere in the north."

Well, good to know. Bunnymund would prefer not running into the green man when the beast was "on a rampage". He was a bit iffy about the whole concept of the man turning into a giant green rage monster that was incredibly hard to control.

Bunnymund slowed his pace when the scent of Pitch suddenly assaulted him. The whole Manhattan was basically full of darkness, but Bunnymund could still sense a more dense dark spot that was the Nightmare King. His nose scrunched up in apprehension. He stopped running, looking suspiciously at a neon sign that was glowing its migraine pink into the night. If Pitch was somewhere nearby, then where was Stark? Or Frostbite and Rogers? Had Pitch managed to get away from all of them?

"Tooth," Bunnymund said in a low voice, "Something's not right."

Toothiana stopped to hover in the air, her swords at the ready. Her mini-fairies zipped all around her, destroying approaching Nightmares and Fearlings as fast as they could. But they couldn't withstand the sudden assault of a nightmare scythe that hit out of nowhere. Toothiana screamed. Some of her fairies fell towards the streets below, and Bunnymund and Toothiana spun to face the shadow that had attacked them. But Pitch wasn't there any longer. Bunnymund sensed it a split-second before Pitch struck. Bunnymund was sent flying and his back hit the pink neon sign. He could feel the glass tubes breaking on impact. The shards of glass stung, and Bunnymund used that second he had before he fell back on the roof to be grateful of the fact that neon lights didn't conduct heat. It would have been embarrassing to end up with a curly _Night _burned into his back, even when it would just heal in a few moments.

"Pitch!" Toothiana hissed, "Show yourself!"

Bunnymund felt someone grab his shoulder and pull him back to his feet. It was Thor. The Thunder God and North had caught up with them. Good. It seemed Pitch had got strong during his rampage in New York. They needed all the help they could get.

Pitch materialized a few feet away from them, holding his scythe and looking unnervingly smug. Bunnymund readied his boomerangs.

"You just keep coming, don't you?" Pitch said ominously, "How many of you do I need to take care of before you stay down?"

"What do you mean by that?" North demanded, pointing a sabre at Pitch, "What have you done?"

"Nothing much," Pitch said, "Well, I admit your little Frost isn't doing so well right now... and neither is Mr. Stark."

Bunnymund tightened his grip on his weapons. His anger flared. As did his worry.

"What. Did. Ya. Do?" he asked slowly.

Pitch's only response was one of his more murderous grins. Bunnymund didn't like it at all.

* * *

Steve took cover behind a small rooftop shed that housed the entrance to a stairwell as well as some antennae on top of it. He set Jack down so that the boy was sitting against the wall, quickly restraining the boy's free hand when it went to feel the spike that was still lodged in his chest.

"Stop that," Steve commanded, "I'll pull it out."

Jack looked like he didn't really know what was going on. His eyes were red-rimmed and he stared blindly at Steve as if not understanding why people probably shouldn't try to treat lung trauma on their own. The kid's face had gained an unhealthy shade of grey at some point. In short, he looked like he should have passed out ages ago, but he hadn't. Sometimes Steve wondered if being very resistant to damage was a blessing or a curse. Jack said something in a quiet voice, so quiet that Steve almost didn't catch it:

"Is... is my sister... okay?"

It took a second before Steve realized Jack wasn't really in the present any longer. The boy needed to get treated now.

"It's you who's hurt," Steve simply said, "Now let's focus on that."

Not waiting for an answer from the delirious boy, Steve inspected the spike and then gripped it near where it had pushed through the boy's chest. Some of the boy's almost black blood dripped onto Steve's hand. It wasn't warm like human blood was supposed to be. It felt disturbingly cold even through Steve's glove. Steve ignored it the best he could. His other hand held the boy's shoulder in a firm grip and gave the kid a little shake. That seemed to bring Jack back to the threshold of awareness.

"You might want to bite down onto something," Steve said.

Very slowly, Jack lifted his hand to pull forward the frosted hood of his sweatshirt. He coughed and red splattered onto the fabric before he clenched his teeth around it. He gave Steve a quick thumbs-up before he let his arm fall limply to his side.

Steve yanked the spike out as quickly as he could. Jack let out a muffled scream, and Steve would have felt immensely sorry for the boy if he had had time for that. Now he had to settle for a quick twinge of sympathy. He threw the strange black spike to the concrete, where it shattered and faded into black sand with an ominous hiss. Jack collapsed into a trembling heap, his arms tightly wrapped around his torso. As much as Steve would have wanted to let the boy have a break, he couldn't do that before he had assessed the damage.

"Okay, you're doing good," Steve said, "Now, I just need to see the wound."

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, trying to take a deep breath. He still couldn't, but at least he seemed to be a bit more coherent than before. He nodded slowly in response to Steve's coaxing, trembling hands rolling up the bloodied hoodie to reveal a wound which to be fair wasn't quite as bad as Steve had thought. It seemed that the moment the spike had been pulled out, the injury had started to heal. Frost spread over the injury, stitching the edges back together. Normally that would have been very alarming, but Steve supposed it was normal for the winter kid. What worried Steve, however, was the inky black spot on the skin around the wound. A black sand infection?

"Is that bad?" Steve asked, "To be hit by that sand?"

Jack pulled the shirt back down and pressed his hand over the wound, applying pressure. His breathing seemed to be getting back to normal, and he wasn't coughing up blood any more. At least that was good.

"It's..." Jack winced in pain, "Yeah, it's pretty bad. Pitch... likes to corrupt things."

"Corrupt?" Steve echoed with concern, "How?"

"Don't worry... I don't... I don't think this is enough to actually do that... I just... need a moment..."

"You sure?" Steve asked.

Jack curled up into a ball, his other hand never letting go of the staff. He rested his head on his knees, looking utterly exhausted.

"I don't know," he admitted, "Usually we can... get better from anything with a bit of belief."

"What?" Steve had that feeling again. The feeling that he wasn't quite sure what the conversation was about any longer, "Do I need to clap my hands or something?"

"No," Jack said and looked almost amused, "It wouldn't work. Pitch may be a lying, manipulative bastard, but he was right when he said you guys don't really believe."

Belief. These Guardians seemed to like to talk about that a lot. They had stated that seeing them required belief. It sounded very surreal, but if it was true, it meant the Avengers _did _believe in the Guardians. They could see them, couldn't they?

"I don't understand," Steve finally said.

"It's okay," Jack replied dazedly, "Just focus on beating those shadow-guys and let the Guardians worry about the belief and all-the-good-things-in-life-department."

He covered his mouth with his hand and coughed dryly. Steve carefully laid his hand on the kid's shoulder.

"Well, for now I'm not going anywhere to beat anyone," Steve said, "You're hurt. I'm not the type to leave my comrades behind."

Their alliance might be a rather abrupt and tenuous one, but it was an alliance. S.H.I.E.L.D. might still be suspicious of the Guardians, but Steve could tell that the Guardians were not bad people. Whatever they were, they stood for what they believed in.

"Besides," Steve went on, "You stayed with me when I was freezing in the Arctic. I might as well repay the favour while I'm at it."

Some colour had returned to Jack's face. It was not much, but there wasn't much colour to regain anyway.

"So you don't think I was lying when I told you about that?" the boy asked, and from his tone of voice Steve could guess it was important.

"Why would you lie about that?"

Jack smiled. He tried to stand up, but didn't even get into a crouch before he had to lean to a wall.

"Hold on!" Steve tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder to steady him, "What are you doing?"

"Pitch isn't beaten yet," Jack said in a quiet, hoarse voice, "We need to get to the others."

"You can barely stand!" Steve argued, "And you just said there might be something corruptive in that wound!"

"I'm feeling okay enough!" Jack snapped, "If you help me, I'll be fine. Just... believe me."

There was something in the incredibly determined, fierce glare Jack gave Steve that almost made Steve believe the kid really was fit enough to fight. There wasn't much choice, really, unless one wanted to just hide and wait for the shadow beasts to sniff them out.

"I'll fight," Jack said with admirable conviction, "There are people in danger. They need to trust that someone can protect them now that they themselves can't."

It was true. People didn't need fear like the Boogeyman had claimed. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Of course a healthy dose of fear was needed to keep people careful. But this... this panic and paranoia wasn't the good type of fear. Under the threat of war and alien attacks and all of the bad things that were going on all around the world, what people really needed was trust. Hope. Wonder. Dreams. All of the things the Guardians fought for. All of the things this Pitch wanted to snuff out. What had Jack said again back at the base?

"_...we do our best to protect people's lives too. But with the things we stand for, actually living those lives is much... nicer, don't you think?"_

Yes. Steve really did think that. He knew a lot of people who were more cynical than him and who might say it was all a bunch of childish crap. But what did it matter? It was a moral from a children's story, yes. Simple and maybe a bit naïve. But most of the time those were the most effective ones.

"Okay, you win," he said, "What's your plan?"

Jack stood as straight as he managed, leaning to his staff and beaming at Steve with genuine joy despite the situation.

"My plan..." he took a deep breath and seemed to relish the fact that he could do that again, "is to go out there and have fun."

* * *

Tony didn't know where he was. He wasn't sure what had hit him either. He remembered the Boogeyman slashing him repeatedly with that scythe. Then... well, at the moment he was... somewhere. Somewhere where it was dark. He stood up from where he had been lying and took a sluggish step forward. Just that simple movement felt unreal and difficult. He couldn't see anything save for vague shapes draped in fog and darkness. Everything was still and silent. This place couldn't be New York, that was for sure. New York was never silent.

Tony almost stepped on something. He looked down and saw grains of that black sand hissing across the empty space he stood in. In the midst of the black particles Tony could see a shape that was vaguely humanoid. Upon closer examination turned it out to indeed be a human. A dead human. As soon as Tony realized he was staring at a dead person, his eyes adjusted as if just to hammer it all in. He was standing among corpses. There were people he recognized among them. There were innocent civilians... And there was Pepper. Her smile and her sharp, intelligent eyes were wiped away with blood and decay. Tony stared at her fearful, lifeless face and for a second he couldn't breathe. Pepper couldn't really be dead, could she? She was safe in Stark Tower. But recent events had proved that Stark Tower wasn't quite as safe as he would have liked... Tony's throat constricted. No. This wasn't right.

He struggled to look at his hands. Reality check. In one startled moment Tony knew he was in a dream. Or more accurately, in a nightmare. It was all a trick. Tony had to drag himself awake. It wasn't as easy as one might think. It was like trudging through a swamp. Pepper's lifeless face haunted him with every step, but he forced himself to push it aside for now. He had no time for that. If he stopped to angst about it now, it could really happen while he was moping in his subconsciousness. He turned his back on the dead and on his fears and kept moving. Golden tendrils of light leaked in through the darkness. Tony didn't question it. This was a dream. Anything was possible. The light brushed past him and chased the worst of the shadows away from Tony's path, as if leading him forward.

Tony cracked his eyes open. He saw a golden blur that sharpened into the round face of the Sandman. The little man smiled and clapped his small hands together when he saw Tony coming around. Tony coughed. His head weighed a ton and his chest felt like it was filled with shrapnel. Well, actually it would be more accurate to say that Tony was even more aware of the shrapnel in his chest than usually. His joints felt stiff when he pushed himself up from where he lay. He had apparently ended up knocked out on a metallic fire escape staircase. Not the most comfortable place in the world to take a nap in. Tony looked up and saw that he had fallen at least three stories before stopping on the metal grating. He also saw Natasha's red hair against the night sky. The woman was apparently keeping vigil on the roof while Goldilocks tried his best reviving Tony.

"You okay?" said a voice Tony hadn't taken to account yet.

Tony turned his head and saw Clint crouching beside him as well.

"Yeah," Tony said in a thick voice. He quickly opened his visor and let the cool night air enter directly into his lungs and cool him down, "What happened?"

The wind that hit Tony's face felt unbelievably refreshing. He let his forehead rest against the back of his metal-covered hand. Could one get hungover from nightmares? Well, Tony sure felt like that now. The Sandman mimed something and pictures appeared over the man's head again.

"Not helping," Tony sighed.

"He says you were really damn close to dying, or worse," Clint translated, his keen eyes staring at the Sandman's silent messages.

Tony looked blankly at his comrade.

"Was Pictionary championships a part of your special training?"

The Sandman looked at Tony rather indignantly. Tony supposed it was a bit uncalled for to joke after apparently just being narrowly saved from death, but he didn't care that much. Sarcasm was a good defence mechanism.

"I just pay attention," Clint shrugged, "We found you here pretty badly beaten and really out of it. Sandy here had to purge a lot of black sand out of you."

Tony pressed his forehead even more firmly against his hand. Fantastic. That was just what he needed: more foreign stuff in his system.

_I was just in time_, the Sandman wrote over his head, considerate enough to use actual English, _You should be okay. All of the nightmare sand is out now._

"Good to know," Tony said, and he really meant it, "What else is going on? Did Steve get Frost treated?"

The startled look on the Sandman's face told Tony that the others didn't know about the fate of the kid yet. A question mark took shape above the Sandman, making the little guy look even more cartoonish than before.

"The Boogeyman stabbed the kid," Tony explained, "Steve got him out of the fight. I don't know how long ago that was, to be honest."

The Sandman looked even more alarmed at that, his tiny hands clenching into anxious fists. A few rather macabre sand-images flashed around the man. Clint frowned.

"Should we try to find them?" he asked.

The Sandman nodded. Clint turned back to Tony.

"Can you locate them?"

Tony let his mask cover his face again and put up his energy-filters, relieved to find that his suit was again fully functional. Trying to locate a specific energy signature from the mess around them was very headache-inducing, but Tony could work with it. His head was aching so much to begin with that he barely noticed the added discomfort. He would just have to focus on finding the cold spots. They were all over the place, but the source seemed to be quite close.

"That way, I think," Tony pointed.

They found Steve and Jack surprisingly quickly, even when they had to fly through those nightmare beasts. The two were apparently headed towards the biggest cluster of shadows, something that was incredibly stupid considering they weren't in a very good shape. Well, Steve seemed to be mostly doing fine, but the ice kid looked like he could drop from the air at any minute. The Sandman conjured up an exclamation point and waved frantically before steering his cloud of sand down to Steve and Jack. Clint and Natasha, who had been riding on the cloud as well landed on the rooftop when the sand dissolved and Sandy floated swiftly through the air to Jack.

"Sandy!" Jack was grinning from ear to ear, and he let himself land when the little man reached him, "Are you guys okay?"

Sandy frowned and grabbed Jack's shoulders, asking a string of apparently worried questions in images.

"There's no time for treatment," Jack replied when Sandy ended his interrogation with a question mark, "I'm okay enough. We have to get everyone together before this fight stretches on too long."

"I think it's too late for that," Tony pointed out, "This has already gone on for _way _too long."

Natasha cocked her gun.

"Then we'll end it now."

* * *

North hadn't expected the Nightmare King to get this powerful this quickly. The fear of a large city was a considerable boost, granted, but it was far from the global disbelief Pitch had caused not long ago. It might have been the added help of the Fearlings, or maybe just... North's thoughts were interrupted when Pitch swung his scythe at him. He hopped backwards, but the scythe slammed into his shoulder. North stumbled back, the pain crippling his arm for a second and his sabre clattering to the roof. He clutched his bleeding shoulder, wondering when the last time he had actually bled before now was. It was a funny thing to think about, but it kept his thoughts away from the pain and the possible nightmare sand -poisoning quite effectively.

North fought to keep his focus on Pitch, who stood in the middle of their battlefield seemingly without a care in the world. And as much as North hated to admit it, Pitch really didn't have that many reasons for worrying at the moment. More than half of the group that was supposed to stop him was missing and, if Pitch was telling the truth, some were also at least seriously hurt. And none of the group that still stood against Pitch was unscathed either.

Bunnymund had glass shards still sticking out of his back. It looked quite painful, but the Pooka seemed determined to ignore it. Bunnymund jumped ferociously at Pitch, who again sunk to cowardly tactics, disappearing into a shadow and appearing behind Bunny. North shouted a warning, but Toothiana was faster to act. She flung her small body in front of Pitch, her swords cutting two vicious slashes across Pitch's chest before the Nightmare King's counter-attack hit her. Toothiana fell, hitting the roof and not getting back up. Bunnymund gasped and growled at the same time, leaping at Pitch, closely follower by Thor. North hurried at the downed fairy, forgetting about his own wounds.

Toothiana twitched when North put his hand on her shoulder. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle, and North could see red mixing with the feathers on her right side.

"Tooth?" North asked fearfully, "Are you okay?"

Toothiana nodded, her face scrunched up in pain. Her mini-fairies gathered around her, letting out worried tweets. Toothiana struggled to her knees, letting out a hiss. There was a deep gash in her side that she tried to put pressure on as she moved. North frowned at that. This was not going well at all.

"I'll survive," Toothiana said, "How about you?"

"Am fine. But this is not working," North said quietly, "We need the others here as well."

"You're right," Toothiana sighed, "How did it get so bad in the first place?"

North looked forlornly at the sight before him. Bunnymund and Thor were fighting Pitch, both relentlessly getting back into the fight every time the Nightmare King knocked them away. But they were all tiring. And on the streets the people were getting anxious again. Their heroes didn't seem to be faring well. What little order they had managed to create was falling apart. North had no idea where the others were. What Pitch had said about Jack and Stark could have been just to demoralize them, but it was likely that it wasn't. What had happened to them?

"We have focused on wrong things," North replied to Tooth, "We never should have caused the Avengers trouble."

Toothiana bit her lip, staring at the fighters that were still standing.

"You're right. But now that it's done, we have to try to work with that. We are supposed to be allies now, and we have to keep it together till the end."

She stood on shaky legs. When she lowered her hand from her side, North could see that her wound had healed, with just a bit of nightmare sand among her feathers indicating anything had ever been there. North felt his own shoulder. It was a bit stiff, and the unnerving feeling of corruption burned it, but he could fight. At least for a while before they all succumbed to nightmares.

Toothiana had lost her swords when she had fallen, but North knew she could hold her own in battle even without them. She spread her wings and rose a few metres above the rooftop, zipping back into the fray. North sprinted after her, tackling a Nightmare out of his way. He lifted his remaining sabre when he saw Pitch appearing out of a shadow again, aiming a furious swipe at the Nightmare King. Pitch's eyes widened in surprise, but the man managed to duck under the strike, spinning around and backing away into darkness.

"Coward!" shouted Bunnymund, throwing a boomerang after the man to no avail.

Bunnymund was limping, North noticed. A Fearling had taken a bite out of the Pooka's left leg. It wasn't a pretty sight, and North could only hope it would heal just like all other injuries the Guardians had sustained. North hurried to steady the Pooka, but Bunny slapped his hand away impatiently.

"No time for that, Nick!" he growled, "Pitch! Where are ya?"

"Right here, rabbit."

Pitch's shadow spread across the rooftop and North, Toothiana, Bunnymund, and Thor all backed away instinctively when Pitch reappeared, taller and more foreboding than before. Pitch spread his arms as if welcoming them all to his realm of nightmares, which he was now very busy trying to expand to cover New York City.

"I'm sure you are all very tired of this by now. Look around you: you haven't really made any difference. If you think you can break the atmosphere of fear like you did in Burgess, you are mistaken. This time it'll take more than a few starry-eyed children to save you, Guardians."

North glanced at Thor, who stood tall among them. The Asgardian was just as resistant to damage as the Guardians, but even he was sporting a gash on his forehead and seemed to favour his right arm. Pitch followed North's gaze and his eyes glinted dangerously.

"I don't think a few _superheroes_ are enough to save you either."

Thor lifted his hammer and lightning struck the roof, causing Pitch to halt his advance. Thunder boomed straight above them.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Pitch crossed his arms, looming above them all like a giant bird of prey, "My _daughter_ can whip up fiercer storms than you ever could, Asgardian. And I have levelled entire constellations back in the good old days. You may call yourself a god, but that means nothing to me. I am not intimidated by the Moon, and I am not about to be intimidated by Asgard either."

"Impressed or not, we will stop you," Thor stated, "You have no hope of standing against all of us."

Pitch's smirk grew even more sinister.

"I've been doing fine so far. While you were busy bickering with each other, I had more than enough time to prepare. Your alliance is weak and easy to take apart. I can just take you down one by one. It has already started."

Pitch raised his hand and a tsunami of nightmare sand and Fearlings rose behind him. North moved forward to shield his comrades, a kind of a futile move considering the others were trying to do the exact same thing at the same time.

"I think I'll actually get four birds with one stone this time," Pitch said and let his hand fall.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" Thor yelled when the sand-wave collapsed towards them.

They all tried their best. But they were worn-out and injured. North could see his friends disappearing under the dark tide before the sand filled his field of vision and his feet left the roof. He was flung over the edge, and he was only dimly aware that he needed to grab onto something if he wanted to be spared from a long fall down. He reached out blindly when solid ground disappeared from under him and he grabbed what felt like cool metal. His shoulder burned and he almost passed out when his head disappeared under the assault of Fearlings and sand. The only thing that kept him from succumbing to darkness was somebody's limp body that suddenly collided with him, jolting him back to awareness. North's head broke above the wave of sand and he wrapped his free arm tightly around the body. His fingers closed around feathers instead of clothing. Toothiana.

North struggled to pull himself and Tooth up from where they hung. He rolled over the metal railing he had clutched and ended up sprawled on what turned out to be someone's balcony. He shook his head to clear it and turned his attention to Tooth. The fairy lay on her side next to North, eyes closed and shoulder blades rising and falling with heavy breaths. Her feathers were messed up, her wings tangled, and she was clutching a mini-fairy to her chest. She had probably caught her to protect her from the sand. The little one was first of the two to stir, chirping in panic when she saw her queen so unresponsive.

"Hush, little one," North said softly, crawling towards Toothiana and lifting the limp body to his arms, "All will be well."

Except it wouldn't be well if they kept this up. The battlefield had fallen into eerie silence, with only Pitch's quiet laughter piercing through the quietness. North stood slowly, feeling older than he should. Tooth's arm fell listlessly to the side. North balanced the small body on one arm the best he could and used his free hand to dig out a snowglobe. The portal he opened caused a flower pot to fall over and break, but that couldn't be helped. The owner of the house should be happy if the pot was the only thing that broke that night. North stepped through the portal, emerging on a roof a bit farther away from where Pitch still stood.

From his vantage point North could see that Bunnymund and Thor had apparently grabbed onto the edge of the roof and were now crawling back up. They came up to the roof and slumped right in front of Pitch. Neither of the warriors seemed to have the strength to continue the fight. North didn't blame them. He himself felt like just moving and carrying Tooth's feather-light body was too much. He fell to his knees and laid Toothiana to her side, carefully arranging her wings to their correct position. She stirred, her face scrunching up in pain.

"North?" she asked faintly when her eyes fluttered open, "What happened?"

"Pitch happened," North answered, "Try to rest. You are hurt."

Tooth shook her head.

"We're all hurt," she said.

North couldn't argue with that.

On the other roof, Pitch was busy savouring the moment which no doubt was very satisfying for him. North looked at the tall, dark monster that was now strolling towards Bunny and Thor. They needed help; North had to do something. But he couldn't move yet. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't summon enough energy for that. It wasn't lack-of-belief -related fatigue. He knew he still had plenty of believers, even though the ones in New York may have been on a bit shaky ground. But it had just been a very, very rough day for all of them. Those days always had the worst timing.

Pitch lifted his scythe above Bunny and Thor, and they seemed to prepare to move. But North feared they wouldn't be fast enough.

"Well," Pitch said triumphantly, "It has been fun."

There was a speck of red and gold in the dark behind Pitch. North focused on it, nudging Tooth's shoulder and pointing. Tooth squinted her eyes and her face brightened.

"Isn't that-?"

Yes. It was indeed Stark. And he wasn't alone.

Pitch's scythe fell. It shattered before it hit its mark.

* * *

The Boogeyman's face twisted into a mix of surprise and outrage. It was actually quite satisfying. The man turned sharply when his scythe broke with the force of Tony's repulsor ray. The Boogeyman's creepily glowing yellow eyes narrowed at the sight of Tony and his companion.

"You didn't think of starting the real fun without me, did you?" Tony quipped.

"I think that should be my line," spoke Jack, his grin a bit too tired to be convincing, "But it sounded kinda lame, so I'll let you have it."

"Oh, shut it, Ice Cube."

To Pitch's credit, he did seem to recover quickly from the surprise.

"You," Pitch said, "Shouldn't you both be dying right now?"

For all of the sneakiness and manipulation, this Boogeyman still couldn't avoid all of the flaws of villainy. Not making sure his downed enemies actually were killed was kind of a big oversight in Tony's opinion.

Jack pointed his staff at Pitch.

"Yeah, right. Maybe if you were the least bit competent. I think it's time for you to get back to facing your own nightmares again, Pitch."

"And that wasn't lame?" Tony asked.

"Cute," Pitch scoffed, "Do you think you can lighten the mood by turning this into a campy superhero-comic? Or do you genuinely try to make me feel threatened? Three Guardians and a god just tried it a second ago and look how well that went! Now a billionaire playboy and a winter sprite are trying their luck. You two are barely conscious to begin with."

"Well, okay, you got us, Pitch," Tony said, raising his hands in mock-surrender, "But we brought some friends who are feeling just fine. Guys?"

That was the cue. Steve, Natasha and Clint walked out of their hiding places, pointing their weapons at Pitch. The Boogeyman still didn't seem all that impressed. But then his attention was attracted towards the heavy footsteps on the top of a higher skyscraper. Pitch looked up, and Tony was immensely happy that he could witness the dawning realization on the Boogeyman's face.

The Hulk stood on the roof. The Sandman hovered near the green man's shoulder, holding two whips made of golden sand.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sooooooooo yeah... My brain still isn't working at all and I've read through this so many times and I don't think I can make it any better. Which is sad because I think it should be way better than it is but what can I do except become a better writer? And be less tired? I BLAME THUNDER THAT IS TOTALLY COMING HERE! I can sense it... Plus it has been way too warm to really do anything. So I'm sure there are a LOT of typing errors in the chapters which you are free to point out! I'll try to re-read this (again again again) a bit later but I figured I need to post it now so I'm not so stuck with this.**

**So according to Wikipedia Thor's biological mother in the comics is Gaea... which would have made an interesting connection seeing how Gaea and Mother Nature are very similar... but at the same time it would make things complicated so I was kind of debating whether or not to mention Pitch's daughter (Mother Nature), but then I read that in the film-universe, Thor's mom is some other goddess named Frigga so dodged a bullet there. Oh yeah, spoilers: Pitch has a daughter who is Mother Nature. I guess everyone knew that already, however.**

**According to the internet, at least comic!Thor can also time-travel... Now I totally see Thor travelling back in time for some reason and Bunnymund appearing there to scold him for wanting to interfere in something.**

**I guess there will be two more chapters after this. Yeah, I know I said that before but now I mean it... maybe.**


	15. Dawn

**15. Dawn**

The sky above Manhattan had settled somewhat after the worst storm of light, but it wasn't over yet. People could feel it. The police had managed to get most of the people into at least some sort of shelter and the blocks directly below and around the supposed battlefield were empty. Those who still dared to stay outside stuck together, staying close to each other for comfort. Whatever was happening in the sky was frightening, but it was also incredibly fascinating and beautiful. And now that the Avengers were there, it wasn't quite as scary as it had been before. The Avengers had stopped the Chitauri. They were heroes. Maybe they would be able to solve this as well. When the lights started to die down in the sky, the "maybes" sort of dropped out of those thoughts and the people really started believing that they had a chance against whatever was attacking them.

People with children took extra care to keep their windows and doors locked. They tried to get their children to sleep and to forget the semi-invisible war outside. Some of the young ones obeyed and even managed to fall asleep in the midst of the turmoil. Most of the children, however, plastered their faces against the windows despite their parents' protests and watched the fight outside. The fact that the Avengers were out there fighting was far too exciting to pass up. The children closest to the battlefield could even make out figures that weren't any of the Avengers, but who were not any less impressive either.

"Is that the Easter Bunny?"

"Santa! Santa's here!"

"Tooth Fairy?"

"I saw the Sandman! He's right over there!"

"Jack Frost... Jack Frost is there too!"

And those children were the most convinced that everything would be all right. After all, they knew they were protected by not only one, but two sets of heroes.

* * *

The green giant hit Pitch like a ton of bricks. A ton of bricks high on adrenaline. Pitch felt concrete cracking under his feet from the force of the blow. He fell on his back and his senses exploded into pain. The Hulk lifted his fist above his head again, and Pitch could only avoid the hit by melting into the cracks in the roof. He turned into a shadow and slid as far away from the green man as he could without leaving the rooftop. He cursed his luck. Just a moment ago he had had no worries. Everything had been going well for him. And now... well, now all the hard work of getting people to be afraid was quickly going to waste.

Pitch observed his opponents from his hiding spot in the shadows. Most of them had taken quite severe hits during the fight. The fairy and the bandit, who had warped back into the fray soon after the fight had resumed were barely standing, and the Thunder God and the bunny were getting slower even as Pitch watched. Jack Frost was trying to hide his pain behind that infuriating smirk, but Pitch could sense his nightmare sand coursing through the boy's icy veins. Tony Stark was not doing much better either. The billionaire was afraid, vulnerable somewhere deep down. In fact, all of them were. The only thing that kept Pitch from just talking all of his enemies into submission right now were the Hulk and one Sanderson ManSnoozie. Sanderson was too strong, and the Hulk did not know fear. He knew only rage.

A few of Pitch's Fearlings tried to swoop down to his aid, but they were quickly blocked by Sanderson's dreams. Those accursed golden forms now filled the sky, taking Nightmares and Fearlings down faster than Pitch could count. Pitch let out a cry of frustration and leaped from his hiding place. He formed his trusted nightmare scythe into his hand and slashed viciously at the nearest target, in this case the pretty-boy dressed in a flag. The man flattened himself against the roof to avoid the attack, and Pitch spun around for another strike. Captain America jumped, tossing the shield he was carrying at Pitch. It grazed Pitch's shoulder, but that was minor compared to the fact that right then the Hulk reached him again. A massive fist hit Pitch out of nowhere, and if Pitch hadn't been immortal, his spine would probably have shattered from the impact. He fell, and his face hit the cracked concrete. He spit out teeth and growled in irritation. Those would take at least a few days to grow back.

He jumped to his feet and managed to avoid the Hulk's next crazed attack. He flung a handful of nightmare sand at the beast's face, and the green man howled and shielded his face. Pitch didn't have time to celebrate that minor victory, however. The female agent jumped at him as if out of nowhere, spinning in the air with almost impossible grace and planting her booted foot into Pitch's already injured shoulder. The woman landed into a low crouch, and Toothiana zipped over her head to deliver a swift and powerful punch at Pitch's face. It had all happened too fast for Pitch's frustrated mind to register, and he took both attacks and staggered backwards to the edge of the roof. A couple of his Nightmares broke through the dreams and landed defensively in front of him. Good. He could use that moment to catch his breath...

"Hi."

Pitch spun around sharply and came face to face with Jack Frost's grin. That was all he saw before a blast of ice hit him in the chest. Pitch flew back a few feet and saw out of the corner of his eye how the bandit and the Thunder God finished off the Nightmares that had broken through. With a cry of pure rage, Pitch aimed his scythe again at the nearest foe, but was stopped by a glowing strand of dreamsand that wrapped around his waist and dragged him sharply into the centre of the roof. Pitch lost his balance, stumbling forward until he caught himself. His scythe disintegrated again, and he was left defenceless, surrounded by the Guardians and the Avengers. Pitch gritted his teeth.

"Well..." he sighed, almost, _almost _tasting blood. The Hulk had really managed to beat him up, "I suppose we can't talk about this?"

The Easter Bunny scoffed.

"Talk?" he repeated incredulously, "Why the hell should we let ya talk?"

"You lost, Pitch," Toothiana said in a low, dangerous tone, "You are not going to hurt anyone any longer."

Sanderson nodded fiercely, sending Pitch a glare that even Pitch had to admit was quite unnerving. Pitch let his eyes wander at the others surrounding him, to search for a possible escape route. Things had really got out of hand for him. He could feel the hope of the people around them. He could feel the fear he had so carefully woven fading into the background. It would be back, he knew. But at that moment the presence of these _heroes _was enough to get people to believe. It crept over him like a sickness, sapping his strength away. Pitch hated it. He hated it so much.

"So what now?" he asked smoothly, his eyes stopping to look calculatingly at Thor Odinson. The man didn't flinch, "Do you expect me to surrender? Why would I do that, knowing there's no way I could avoid retribution?"

"Well, there is a chance we might go easy on you," said Stark, aiming his hand at Pitch, "S.H.I.E.L.D. has some pretty nice cells that could keep even something like you locked away. For a long time."

Pitch chuckled condescendingly.

"I would say that's only marginally better than being imprisoned by my own Nightmares. Besides, I don't think you would just leave me be, would you Stark? After I managed to dig up your insecurities with just a couple of nightmares?"

There was no outward change in Stark's demeanour. The metal mask certainly helped with that. But Pitch didn't need outward signs to know someone was afraid. He smirked despite the situation he was in.

"I thought so," he whispered.

"Shut up, Pitch!" said Jack, and Pitch had to step back from a warning shot of ice that was aimed at his feet. Pitch felt an angry tug on the dreamsand whip that kept him in place. Sanderson scowled at him warningly. Pitch glanced up and saw the remains of his army retreating like cowards from the battalion of dreams. Soon Pitch would be a general without an army. And a prisoner as well, unless he did something fast.

His eyes fell on Jack. He focused on the traces of nightmare sand in the boy's chest. It wouldn't be enough to actually do any lasting damage, unfortunately, but it would cause the brat some serious pain. It would have to do as a distraction.

"You know this won't end so easily," he said, "These people won't forget. And I will get stronger again soon enough. You all may put on your hero-faces, but I see right through you. You know I'm right. No matter how many times you beat someone like me, the danger is never over. And one day, you will lose everything, and it still won't be enough."

The grains of corruption stirred and sparked somewhere in Jack Frost's body.

"Wasted sacrifices," Pitch stated, "That's all you will ever be."

He closed his hands into fists and concentrated. Jack's eyes widened and he collapsed, screaming in agony and clutching his chest. The Guardians and the Avengers all let out shouts of alarm, and Pitch used that moment to turn around sharply. His hand reached the dreamsand whip and the golden strand was tainted with black at his touch. He knew Sanderson could just change it back in a split-second, but that split-second was all he needed. He broke the corrupted part of the whip and tore himself free. He dashed towards the bandit and the fairy, who were now distracted as well as still weakened from the previous fight. He called froth some of his nightmare sand and didn't even bother modelling it into an actual weapon. He slashed with a barely formed blade, and it cut across Nicholas St. North's chest.

His enemies' shock washed refreshingly over him, but he didn't have time to stop to enjoy it. He heard an arrow whistling through the air and he lurched forward when it slammed into his back. A boomerang followed the arrow with deadly accuracy. Had Pitch not fought in countless wars and been so used to pain, he might have not been able to go on. But he forced the pain out of his mind and kept running. Attacks rained down upon him and he felt his very existence starting to leak out of the wounds he had sustained. He crossed the brightly lit patch on the roof and dove into the blackest shadow in the corner. Darkness closed around him, and it might have been comforting if he hadn't been so preoccupied by the bitter taste of defeat.

* * *

Judging by the shouts, Pitch had got away. Jack's mind registered it very faintly amidst the pain. His blood had been set on fire somehow. That was the only explanation he could give to the pain that now coursed through him. That or there really was some remnants of nightmare sand in him. For some reason he preferred the blood on fire -theory. At least that didn't involve corruption eating away his very being.

He heard voices and felt small hands on his chest. Through dark grey haze he could see Sandy's golden crown of hair and kind eyes. Sandy could help him, he knew. He hoped. His vision blurred until he couldn't see any longer. His chest erupted with pain again and he couldn't breathe. He was drowning again. He clenched his hands tightly into fists and felt the familiar wood of his staff in his right hand. He focused on that, letting his staff anchor him to the cool concrete and to reality. The people around him were talking, but his sluggish mind could only catch a few words here and there.

"Hold on..."

"Pitch...that bastard!"

"He's pulling through this... right?"

"How about North?"

North? Had North been hit too? Hell, they all were in terrible condition. Jack couldn't get selfish and just lie down when everyone else was suffering too. And the people... he was supposed to protect them, not be slacking off because of a little bit of agony.

The pain lessened, and air filled his lungs again. Jack's eyes snapped open and Sandy smiled reassuringly at him. The dream weaver's hands were still on Jack's chest, and Jack could practically feel the last sparks of nightmares turning into dreams and then fading away. Slowly, Jack sat up, feeling his chest. He was okay. As okay as he could be, given the circumstances. He smiled gratefully at Sandy, who smiled back and quickly wrapped his stubby arms around Jack in a cheerful hug.

"I... I'm okay, Sandy," Jack managed to say in a hoarse voice, "Thanks."

He looked around and saw worried faces. Pitch was nowhere in sight. Jack let out a sigh.

"I guess he got away, huh?"

"Yes, he did," said Thor, "But we shall find him soon enough."

"I doubt it," Bunny said darkly, "Pitch can hide for a long time if he just wants to. And we're all a bit too crook to start looking now."

That brought Jack back to full awareness and he remembered the others had talked worriedly about North just a moment ago. His eyes fell on the Cossack, who was standing only because Tooth was keeping him steady. The front of North's coat was sticky with blood. Jack's breathing hitched. A bloodied Santa Claus was something no kid should ever see. Especially if said Santa was the closest thing to a father the kid in question had. Jack practically flew to his feet despite the painful protests his body made and dashed to North.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, his hands clutching North's broad shoulders, "Heck, are you _all_ going to be alright?"

North looked wearily at Jack and nodded.

"Don't worry about me, son," North said gently.

"You should worry about yourself, Jack," Tooth added, "You need a lot of rest after what happened here."

"Hey," Clint Barton cut in, "I'd hate to break this moment, but are we really just going to let that guy go?"

The Guardians shared a glance.

"No," North said firmly, "Never. But for now, we need to focus on this city. People are still very afraid, even though they trust you."

"Takin' away the fear is the best way to keep Pitch away," Bunny added when the Avengers still looked doubtful.

Sandy pointed at the Avengers, a few rather abstract sand-images floating above his head. The Avengers watched them in confusion.

"These people need you now," Tooth translated, "Sandy can help them calm down, but you should be out there as well."

The Avengers understood. Or then they didn't. Jack wasn't quite sure, and he was a bit too exhausted to figure out which. They all stood on top of the roof in silence for a while. All battered, bruised and in some cases covered in blood. The silence wasn't actually an uncomfortable one, which surprised Jack a little. It was more of a contemplative, "How the heck did we get into this situation?" -kind of silence.

"We did win," North said after a while, "Don't worry about that."

North spread his arms and put them around both Jack and Tooth. Bunny limped to the group and Sandy hovered protectively above them. The Avengers stood in a row, forming a strange unity of their own. Bruce Banner looked once more up at the sky, where the last remaining Nightmares were torn to shreds by dreams, and then the green giant diminished back into a man.

"I think we should all really get some first aid," he said.

He was right.

* * *

It was a few hours until morning when the sky finally settled. For a short while there was silence. People stared, waited for another assault, but it didn't come. Slowly some of the people dared to return to their homes. Some stayed where they were throughout the rest of the night. The ones that got home found themselves exhausted and quickly fell asleep into surprisingly pleasant dreams.

The strange battle in the night would be on the news the next day, and several days after that. But as the days would pass, the inexplicable parts of the incident would mysteriously gain an explanation. And the news wouldn't forget to mention how the Avengers had defeated the threat. How they would be there to protect people. The Avengers had proven again that they could win even against something that might not have been of this world. Still, it would take a while until people really calmed down about it. For some it would take a lifetime. But for now they knew they had been saved, and they took comfort in that. The children were the most comforted of them all, surprisingly enough. In the following weeks those close to the battle would tell stories of how the Avengers had joined forces with Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, and Jack Frost to fight off evil.

The Guardians and the Avengers kept watch over the city through the night, scanning the shadows for the last signs of Pitch. The Boogeyman was gone, leaving only the lingering fear at his wake. Only after they had made sure that the city was as safe as it could be, the Avengers and the Guardians allowed themselves to rest.

In the sky, the night clouds parted to give way for the last rays of the moon before dawn broke.

* * *

**Author's Note: So yeah... my hard drive decided to spontaneously die. That little incident cost me quite a few even very dear files, including this story and including including chapter 15 which I had already written a couple of weeks ago. So what you see here is chapter 15 version 2.0! Or 2.4 or something if you count the revisions.**

**Thanks for your patience and for your awesome support guys! To make up for this longer wait I promise I'll get the next chapter out sooner. I already have it written and it only needs a few adjustments to be a bit better. It's going to the the last chapter in this story.**

**And to Anonymous guest reviewer: yes, the Guardians of Childhood is a children's fantasy novel series by William Joyce.**


	16. Epilogue

**16. Epilogue**

Steve Rogers felt the apologies could have been a little more heartfelt. He supposed it was just the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. still didn't fully want to trust the Guardians. Or just the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't like admitting they had been wrong. It was a good thing the Guardians were so unbelievably forgiving. Steve knew that had their roles been reversed, the Avengers might have not let things go so easily. He was sure the Guardians knew that too. Still, the goodbyes they said were relatively free of animosity. Toothiana talked to all of them with respect that betrayed her own nobility. North chatted with Natasha in Russian. Now they at least had the answer to the age-old question of Santa Claus's original nationality. The Easter Bunny was the surliest of them all, but even he granted them a few smiles. The Sandman looked like he had no care in the world, and Jack Frost was... well, Jack Frost. The boy was all smiles and jokes, even though he was still exhausted from the fight.

Steve knew the others still didn't quite believe in the Guardians. Oh, they believed they existed, all right, but they still weren't buying the fact that these beings were _actually _the real, original children's mascots that had inspired so many stories and Christmas specials. Steve didn't quite get why that particular part was so hard to swallow. One of their own was a Norse god and they had no problems buying that. Maybe it was just how things were supposed to be. Adults were supposed to let go of childish belief and grow up. Well, Steve didn't mind not growing up in this sense. The legends were good people, something worth believing in.

He decided not to push the issue among the others, however. Maybe this was one of those things that everyone had to figure out by themselves.

* * *

Once Thor barged into Natasha and North's conversation and started talking loudly to the Russian man, Natasha discreetly backed away. She found Clint sitting on a chair in the corner, silently watching their group of battered weirdos chatting in a surprisingly friendly manner. Natasha sat down next to Clint, who acknowledged her with a nod and a small smile. They sat together in silence, the kind of silence that didn't require anything else to convey understanding. Over the years the two of them had become rather good at that, but only in each other's company.

Natasha leaned her elbows to her knees. Nick Fury was sitting at a desk behind a glass wall, and he didn't look very happy. Natasha figured solving this little incident in a manner that gave people satisfying answers without really giving away much at all was going to be a challenge. The Guardians had promised to do their part in the matter, but they had admitted they couldn't help quite as much as they wanted. Despite all of their powers, the Guardians were apparently very much invisible to the majority of people in the world, or at least to the majority that actually made the decisions.

In another corner of the room, Bruce Banner sat leaning against a wall, wearing ragged trousers and a rather ill-fitting plaid shirt he had borrowed from Steve. To Natasha's surprise, the man was intently following the golden patterns and images the Sandman created above them both. It was a rather strange friendship, but at the same time it made a bizarre amount of sense.

"It has been... interesting," Natasha mused, finally breaking the understanding silence between her and Clint, "All that has happened."

"'Interesting?'" Clint repeated, sounding almost amused by her choice of words, "That's putting it mildly."

"I feel like I've stepped into a children's picture book," Natasha said, "You know, the kind that I've probably never read in my life."

Or maybe she had. Maybe that little girl she had met in her fight with the Tooth Fairy had read a book or two.

"The kind with a moral at the end?" Clint asked, "Yeah, I feel a bit like that too."

"What would the moral in this be, then?" Natasha asked.

"Beats me," Clint shrugged, "I guess we can all figure that out on our own. With time."

Natasha looked at Clint's intense eyes and thought that maybe Clint had already figured something out on his part. As for her... well, she might now say that childish innocence and dreams weren't always bad. Most people just couldn't afford to have any of that.

She was one of them.

Across the room, in the middle of his conversation with North, Thor suddenly broke into loud guffaws.

"Truly!" the man boomed, "I _must _visit your workshop, Nicholas! I believe we have a lot of catching up to do!"

The Russian man smiled under his beard.

"Of course!" he said, "Once we rest, we can have good old celebration..."

He didn't invite anyone else from the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. to this celebration. The Guardians seemed to be very forgiving, but not completely so. Natasha supposed it was for the best. A flutter of wings caught her attention, and she looked up to see Toothiana lowering herself to the floor in front of her. The miniature fairies that always followed her around chirped their greetings and Toothiana smiled warmly.

"I really do hope there will be no need for more animosity between us," the fairy said, "I really am sorry for attacking you."

"She attacked you?" Clint asked in alarm.

Natasha nodded.

"No harm done," she said, "I would have done the same if I had been in your position, Toothiana."

"Oh, you people can call me Tooth if you wish," Toothiana said cheerfully, "No need to be so formal."

"Will you be leaving soon?" Natasha asked.

"Do you want us to leave?"

"I'm not meaning to be rude, but we all have a lot of recovering to do."

Toothiana smiled again.

"Yes, we do. We shall return to our homes soon enough. Don't worry. And Natasha?"

Natasha looked questioningly at the strange woman.

"Yes?"

"It's all right to remember."

Natasha didn't reply to that. In a swish of feathers, Toothiana had flown away. The Easter Bunny hopped to compliment Clint on his aim soon after that. Natasha watched with amusement when the warrior-rabbit and Clint found something to talk about with surprising ease. She smiled and even allowed herself to laugh a little at the sight. And for a second she heard a small trace of the little girl in the tooth box in her laughter.

* * *

Nick Fury leaned back in his chair, sighing and staring at the ceiling to let his eye rest after staring at computer screens for so long. It had been a very busy few months after the defeat of the Boogeyman. There had been a lot of explaining to do, and a lot to cover up. The Avengers and the Guardians had done a great job in kicking the crap out of the Boogeyman, and to their credit they had also done their best to help with the aftermath. Still, most of that work had fallen on Fury.

The people of the world and especially New York had been calmed about the matter through a hefty dose of barely plausible lies and an extra helping of dreamsand. The Guardians had been quick to point out that a human mind could be easily manipulated into forgetting things and believing even more far-fetched explanations, especially if believing those explanations gave people some peace of mind. It had been rather twisted to hear someone who was supposed to be Santa Claus say that. Then again, said Santa was apparently an ex-Cossack and an ex-bandit king. Fury wasn't sure if that made things better or even more twisted.

In the end, people would never really forget the strange phenomena in the sky or the attack of the unknown. Of course, that was the point. People needed to remember, and they needed to live with that. At least they would also live with the knowledge that there was a group of extraordinary people watching over them.

The involvement of the Guardians had been left out of any reports Fury had had to fill in. The Guardians had been okay with that. When Fury had pointed out that stating that he had warded off an attack by the Boogeyman with the help of holiday mascots would have utterly destroyed S.H.I.E.L.D's credibility, they had agreed. For them, it seemed enough to know that the kids believed in their involvement. And in their existence. Fury still wasn't sure what to make of that.

The Guardians hadn't held a grudge against S.H.I.E.L.D., which was good to hear. The Guardians were a powerful force to be reckoned with, and Fury was glad he didn't have to deal with their wrath in the midst of all the other crazy things that were going on in his life. They had parted with a tenuous agreement of keeping in touch in case other supernatural threats came up. The Guardians assured they would find ways of contacting S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers if needed. Fury believed that.

The Avengers had again separated. Thor had returned to Asgard, but not after apparently visiting the North Pole. Romanoff and Barton had resumed their work, and Banner had disappeared again. Fury was sure the scientist was out of the continent by now. Rogers and Stark had both stayed in New York, continuing their lives as they saw fit as well. Fury was sure they would be needed again. But hopefully not for a little while at least. Not before he had dealt with the fallout of this particular mess first.

When the next Christmas rolled in and Fury found a neatly wrapped present on his desk with no indication of who had put it there, he wasn't quite as irritated as one might have thought.

* * *

The weather had been getting cold quicker than usual. It was nearing October, and Tony could already catch sight of frost on the windowpanes. Most people said it was just normal fluctuations in weather and perhaps blamed global warming for messing up the seasons, but in this case Tony could guess it was because a certain sub-zero hellion was probably flying around in the city. The Guardians had promised to keep an extra careful watch over New York after the attack, after all. As much as they could, seeing how New York definitely wasn't the only place with problems. Hell, globally thinking it barely had any problems at all. But the Guardians seemed to specialize in fighting supernatural threats and especially the Boogeyman, so it made sense they would need to monitor the effects of this particular attack on the people.

Tony for his part had spent most of his time in his lab. He had had a lot to build. A rational part of his brain told him that he was overreacting. That he definitely didn't need dozens of different Iron Man suits to do his job. But that part was always quickly silenced by panic attacks and nightmares. As much as Tony hated to admit it, the Boogeyman had managed to dig up a lot of insecurities, some of which Tony had been aware of even before the whole incident.

He sat down on his couch in his living room and closed his eyes. He had to fight to keep the image of him lost in the vacuum of space from his mind. It had started with the Chitauri, he knew. Chucking the missile to their mothership, ready to die for it... It had done more than just made Tony realize he was more altruistic than he had thought before.

There was a faint knock on Tony's window. Tony chose to ignore it. It was probably the wind, he decided. The wind had learned how to wield wooden sticks in the last few months, right? The knocking persisted, and Tony kept his eyes stubbornly fixed at the floor.

"Aww, come on, Tony!" said a voice muffled by the bulletproof glass. It was a miracle Tony could hear anything at all. Maybe the wind that seemed to like Jack Frost so much helped carry the boy's voice as well.

Jack knocked again, and Tony rolled his eyes. If he didn't let the kid in, the whole tower might soon be suddenly frozen. That would be annoying, not to mention expensive to fix. Tony opened the window and Jack floated inside, landing lightly on the small table the tooth box had rested on back when they had first met.

"Hi," the boy greeted, leaning to his crooked staff and looking like he didn't have a care in the world. All signs of the battle wounds were gone, and even the kid's blue hoodie had been fixed. It looked as good as new, actually.

"If you have something important to say, then get it over with fast," Tony said, "I don't want Pepper coming in and thinking I've gone crazier than I already am and started talking to air."

"Pepper?" Jack repeated, "Oh, she's your girlfriend, right? Is she here?"

"Not on this floor, but in this tower, yes."

"Okay," Jack nodded, "This won't take long, I guess. I just figured I'd tell you that everything's fine around here."

Tony raised a brow.

"What, you've solved all of the world's problems? Congratulations."

"Well aren't you funny," Jack deadpanned.

"Just admit that you don't really have anything to say," Tony said, "You just wanted to annoy me."

"Actually," Jack crossed his arms, "I came here to make sure you were alright."

Tony hoped his hesitation didn't show in his voice when he replied:  
"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Sandy noticed you've been really stressed," Jack explained, "He knows about these things."

"Great," Tony sighed, "Acquaint yourself with self-proclaimed kids' mascots and say goodbye to your privacy. Fantastic."

"Hey, I'm trying to be serious here!" Jack waved his hands in exasperation, "I'm trying to help!"

His shoulders slumped and he calmed down a little.

"I mean... you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. We're not exactly that close. But..."

Jack fell silent for a moment, and Tony hoped the kid wouldn't continue at all. Having a frozen teen act as a therapist for him wasn't something he particularly wanted to happen.

"I'm fine," he said firmly, "Was that all?"

"Pitch likes to play mind games," Jack said quietly, "I know: he's targeted me a lot. He's good at them too. He knows what everyone is afraid of and uses that to psyche them out."

"I told you, I'm fine," Tony raised his voice just a bit, hoping it would be enough of a warning for Jack to shut up.

It wasn't.

"You're thinking about what he said, right?" Jack guessed, "About wasted sacrifices."

Tony let his head fall to his hands.

"What part of 'I'm fine' don't you understand?" he growled.

He could practically sense the kid's stare on him. Jack scrutinized him for an uncomfortable while before slipping down from the table. Tony heard the soft thud of the kid's bare feet touching the floor.

"Sorry," Jack said, "It's just... I've thought about that too. A lot."

Tony looked up, and for the first time ever the teen actually looked _old_. He wasn't even sure why he decided to go along with the conversation.

"Did you come to any conclusions?" he asked.

Jack smiled faintly.

"I decided not to worry about it too much. If something bad happens, all I can do is my best to stop it."

"You know, 'best' is never going to be enough in this world," Tony said, "It's just how it works."

Jack looked at him, icy eyes weary and ancient.

"Yeah. Sometimes I wish that we could do more. We're the Guardians. We have powers most can't even imagine. But still we can do so little in the end. That's just how it is. So I once decided to just be glad of the good things we _can _do."

"So... happy thoughts?" Tony summarized dryly, "I think I was thinking something along those lines back when I was pushing that missile into a portal. It didn't stop me from being scared shitless, though."

"Yeah, I heard about that. It was a very good thing to do," Jack said quietly, "And I think I know how you feel."

"Huh," Tony just said, "Have you ever flown a missile into the vacuum of space, one-hundred percent sure you're going to die?"

Jack shook his head.

"Not really. But..."

He took a deep breath.

"I did save my sister from drowning once."

There was something about the way he said it. Something that made Tony realize the boy was telling something very private to him.

"It wasn't quite as awesome as saving billions from a nuke," Jack went on, eyes locked somewhere into the past, "But knowing my life was enough to buy a few more decades to my sister is enough for me."

Jack stared at his feet, fists clenched, and suddenly he huffed angrily.

"Damn it! I was supposed to make you feel better, but now you got me all mopy instead!"

Normally, Tony would have replied with a sarcastic quip, but he was a bit too stunned by the implications of Jack's story, not to mention the fact that the teen had actually shared something like that with him.

"My point is..." Jack said, "That you shouldn't worry too much about it. You're not the only one who's fighting for this world."

Tony looked thoughtfully at the kid who wasn't really a kid. The silence that fell between them stretched until it was so uncomfortable that not even a Finn could have tolerated it.

"No," Tony said at last, "I suppose I'm not."

He laced his fingers under his chin.

"Tell me, why do you care?"

Jack shrugged.

"I just do."

"I think you care a bit too much for your own good."

"I suppose that's what all of us Guardians have in common," Jack said and smiled again, "That's part of what makes us Guardians. And I think you Avengers are similar in that regard."

"It's not just that we care. It's also the fact that we have the resources to do something about things," Tony pointed out.

"Maybe," Jack admitted, "But most of the times, caring is enough."

"Oh, shut up," Tony sighed, "You're getting creepily deep for a kid."

"I'm allowed to be deep," Jack said, "I'm over three hundred years old!"

Tony couldn't help smiling. Jack had that effect on people. Maybe it was a part of his powers or something, but just being around him seemed to make people more cheerful. To have more fun.

"Thanks, Jack," Tony said, "I'll try... not to worry too much."

It was a lie. Maybe. Tony didn't know how hard he could actually try. Jack shifted his weight and looked back outside through the still open window. He seemed to be listening to something. A gust of wind blew some papers from the living room table to the floor.

"You do that," Jack said, "I promise we'll be around. As long as the kids still believe in us."

He paused in mid-step towards the window.

"It wouldn't hurt if you guys would really believe in us too. As in, _really_ believe."

Tony looked at the floor at the kid's feet. It was starting to frost over.

"I personally think that legends are born from true events or true people," he said, "I suppose I could buy that you guys are like that. Or not."

Jack grinned widely.

"Someday you will. I'll make sure of that. Tony Stark: a ground-breaking scientist who still believes in fairy tales. It's way too funny to pass up!"

"Get lost, Brainfreeze!"

With one last mischievous grin, Jack Frost was gone. Tony didn't bother standing up from his seat to clean up the frost that had formed a fern-like cluster to the floor. He just told JARVIS to close the window and turn the heating up. It didn't take long for the temperature to rise slightly above average and the frost to start melting into a puddle of water. Soon it was gone, erasing all the evidence of Jack Frost ever being there. All evidence, except for the memories.

Tony Stark hummed to himself, deep in his thoughts.

_Fin._

* * *

**Author's Note: Well, it's done now, and I even managed to put a corny book-end there. Yay! It's a bit sad that it's over but I think all stories need to come to an end... especially if I write them because I don't really like giving up on projects. When I started this, I didn't really think it would go all that well for reasons I explained back in Chapter 1. This was mostly an experiment, a test to see if I could pull it off. And... yeah, I suppose I could. At least it's finished now, and judging by the awesome reviews it wasn't terrible! There are some parts of this that I can honestly say that I'm rather proud of, and that means a lot coming from a perfectionist... I suppose I could have explored the story's theme of innocence vs. duty/troubles of adulthood and the theme of seeing childish morals from a more cynical perspective a bit better... either a bit less or a bit more depending on the part of the story. But words don't always do what I want them to, especially seeing how I'm writing in a foreign language (even if it is a very familiar foreign language to me). Anyway, I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this and I'm glad that I started.**

**I want to say a very big thank you to everyone who read, followed, favourited, and/or reviewed! I am still surprised and very happy about the reception this story got. You guys are too kind! And awesome. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have finished this without all that support.**

**As for my future regarding fanfiction... I don't think I will be writing or at least publishing any fanfics for a while. I don't really have that many ideas for fanfics and I want to focus on original stuff more. If you still want to read more from me, I do have other RotG-stories I have already uploaded under this very same pen-name. If you have checked those out already, well... then I thank you for reading those too! I joined Fanfiction so I could get over my fear of putting my texts up for people to see and maybe to get some feedback. I've managed both, and for that I am happy. If I get a super special awesome idea for a fanfic that I actually also manage to write, you might be hearing more from me. But if not... well, I do have my older fics for some other fandoms sitting around in my computer and I might see if there's something worth showing in them... if someone wants to see them, that is.**

**I'll still be reading stuff here and checking my messages. Once again, thank you, and have a nice summer!**


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